Her Protector
by lauraamma
Summary: Liz meets a dog called Raymond who is not at all what he appears to be. When Raymond reveals himself to be a human, Liz learns just how much of another world exists out there that she never dreamed possible. When she discovers that the bite mark on her wrist has infected her, can he help her come to terms with what she truly is? Shifter fic, AU, Red/Liz, soul mates, humor.
1. Chapter 1

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **This is a shifter fic, where Red can shift into a dog. A Siberian Husky, to be exact. I thought Reddington had traits very similar when he shows them to Lizzie; loyalty, protective... Yes, I know it sounds silly, but if you are interested in more, I'd love to know :-)**

* * *

 **Her Protector**

Liz slipped in her earbuds, pressing the play button on her IPod as she started jumping down the steps into an immediate light jog. _This_ was what she enjoyed most of all in the mornings after waking up; Getting the chance to go for a run and enjoy the scenery at seven thirty in the morning.

Focusing on the lyrics of the music playing and ensuring she didn't strain her leg muscles too much, she ran towards her usual running spot in the park. Already, people were sitting on benches, reading or laying sprawled out on the green grass under shaded trees.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stopped a second to catch her breath, resting her hands on both her knees, her black tank top and grey track pants sticking to her skin like adhesive from the sweat. Plopping down on the ground, she rested her head between her knees while switching her music off.

It was then she heard a man cry out in a panic, "Raymond! This is _not_ a good idea! You said to keep your distance, Raymond!"

She turned her head to look curiously, noticing a tall and fairly bulky dark-skinned man running towards her. A few meters in front of him, loping straight towards her, was a dog.

She stiffened in worry, unsure about whether the dog was a threat, but judging by how it was wagging its tail furiously as it ran towards her, she realized the dog was only happy to be let off its leash.

Immediately, the dog seemed to take an instant liking to her; It dropped down on both its front and hind-legs directly in front of her the instance it reached her, rolling over onto its back on the grass near her running trainers so that Liz had no choice but to scratch its belly.

She had always been an animal lover, particularly a dog lover. It was why her and her partner Tom had chosen to get a dog, Hudson. This dog seemed to be a bigger breed than Hudson was, but she found him adorable nevertheless.

She wasn't sure what type of dog it was, but she noticed it had the most gorgeous, piercing greenish-grey eyes she had ever seen on a dog. It's fur was short and a luxurious white with grey spots in places, silky smooth to her fingers touch, and if she had to guess on the spot, she would have thought it was a Siberian Husky or one of those other similar breeds of powerful dogs.

"Hello there," she cooed, immediately adopting the baby-talk she refrained for only animals or extremely young children. "What's your name? Aren't you a beautiful doggie?"

It had no collar but a dazzlingly bright red handkerchief around its neck, which Liz found especially cute. It rolled over, wiggling closer to her on the grass, resting its head in her lap as it nuzzled her knee.

As the man who was obviously the dogs owner reached them, the husky lifted its head, staring at the man who was breathing heavily. "Raymond," the man spoke softly in scolding. When the man met her gaze, Liz grinned at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized, shaking his head. He patted his knee loudly several times, trying to coax the dog away from her, but instead the dog sat up, remaining at Liz's side stubbornly. "I think he likes you," the man continued with a smile. "He doesn't usually like to run up to people unless he _really_ likes them."

"Aw," she laughed. "Well, I think I like him, too." Liz felt her heart flutter as she looked at the dog. As if somehow understanding that they were talking about him, the dogs tail started wagging again as he shifted closer towards her with a whine.

"You shouldn't say that with him close by," the man said, pretending to whisper with a cautious look in the dog's direction. "It will go straight to his head." Liz laughed, watching the dog closely as it kept looking excitedly between his owner and her; his head tilted slightly to the side, ears forward, mouth open as he panted.

"Raymond?" Liz asked with a raised brow, noticing the dog's head whip into her direction. _What an intelligent dog,_ Liz thought. _He knows his name and everything._ Half the time, with her and Tom's pet dog Hudson, it was a struggle to get him to understand what _sit down_ meant. "So his name is Raymond?"

"Yes, that's right. He is Raymond."

"What an old-fashioned name you have there then, Raymond," she said in baby-talk again, scratching the dog behind the ears with her fingernails affectionately. "I _love_ his red handkerchief."

"Yes, well, Raymond likes it also. It was an... inside joke." Liz wasn't quite sure what the man meant by that, but kept a smile in place with effort.

"How old is he?"

"Fifty five," the man answered with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

"In doggy years, you mean?"

"Sort of like that, yes. But not quite though." She watched as the man fixed a stern look onto the dog. "Come now, Raymond. It is time to go. You have an appointment, remember? We must leave if you want to get there in time."

Amazing Liz, the dog yipped at the man's words, as though he understood what he was saying completely. Raymond stood up off his hind-legs, coming closer to Liz, enough to smear his cold wet nose along her cheek which Liz made a high-pitched noise in shock at, squinting her eyes.

"God," she breathed with laughter, lifting up her hand to wipe her cheek dry. "His nose is freezing."

"You have a good day now," the dogs owner said, smiling at her amicably.

"Yes, you too, Mr...?" She trailed off meaningfully.

"Dembe," he answered. "It is Dembe."

"Then it was very nice meeting you, Dembe." She glanced down at the dog, putting on her baby voice again, " _And_ your very adorable dog Raymond."

Dembe pressed a finger to his lips, shushing her then pointing down at the dog, who was looking back at her with his vibrant greyish-green eyes. It was almost like the man, Dembe, was saying, _Ssh, he can understand you and human talk._

Without really knowing what she was doing, Liz lifted her hand, waving at the dog as it seemed to turn back to look at her with every three steps it made. What was she doing anyway? It wasn't like a dog can wave back.

She was flabbergasted and the oxygen was knocked straight out of her when the dog sat on its hind-legs, lifting up its front left paw to wave back at her with a loud whine that echoed through the park. _Gee, what an extremely talented dog._

 **What did you think? I fear this may be too silly so I'm sorry if it is.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **Thank you so much, I know its a silly idea, but I am so glad that some of you are willing to go along with it LOL. Don't worry, Red can shift into BOTH human and dog, so she will meet him eventually as a human.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2**_

Liz was still grinning to herself as she got inside the apartment she shared with her boyfriend Tom, her spirits lifted.

Something about having a little run-in with the dog Raymond and his owner Dembe had her feeling very happy this morning. When she stepped inside the kitchen to fill up a tall glass with water, she found her boyfriend of a year, Tom, already awake, sitting in a chair at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee nursed between his hands.

"You got up earlier than usual?" he said, raising his eyebrows at her. "I woke up wondering why the bed felt so cold and realized you were gone?"

"I know. I'm sorry, babe." She paused, sipping down a few mouthfuls of water greedily. The run back to the apartment had made her mouth feel parched. "I just had a sudden burst of energy this morning and decided to go for a run earlier than usual." She turned and leaned against the sink after filling up another glassful of water, noticing Tom scrutinizing her carefully.

"You seem particularly... _happy_ this morning, too?"

She had to press her lips tightly together to suppress a smile. "Do I?" she asked, playing dumb.

"Yeah, you do. Should I be worried?"

"Maybe." She slipped up, grinning. "No. I actually ended up meeting someone at the park on my run."

"Oh, really?" Tom shifted in the chair slightly to face her with heightened interest, his eyes widening. "I think I should definitely be worried then. Was it a really handsome guy?"

She laughed quietly to herself at how far off the mark he was. "Well, they definitely _were_ adorable. They were about _this_ tall" - She bent down, demonstrating how tall _the guy_ was by leveling her hand just above her knee -" _And_ were extremely hairy. Aside from that, they were _very_ adorable."

Tom's face seemed to fall in relief. "You're talking about a dog, Liz, aren't you?"

" _Maybe_ ," she kept up, teasing him. She was enjoying his reaction far too much than she probably should have.

"Do I need to seriously be worried over a dog?"

" _Maybe_ , if I'm ever... into bestiality," she teased. She pretended to think deeply for a second. "He left a pretty good impression on me so, yeah. I think you _definitely_ should be worried, babe."

Their playful bantering was interrupted when Tom glanced over at the clock. In a hurry, he was up, tucking in the chair. "Shit, babe. I really have to get to work," he muttered, tipping the rest of his coffee out in the sink.

"Okay, babe. Have a good day."

He pecked her on the lips goodbye, rushing to find his briefcase. Then he was out the door in a flash, leaving Liz by herself. Well, _not completely_ by herself. Hudson was sitting by his bowl, scoffing down his breakfast.

When she glanced at the time herself, she tipped the rest of the water out into the sink, rushing into the bathroom to have a shower to get dressed and ready for her day as well.

* * *

That night, ridiculous as it was, Liz found she couldn't sleep.

She laid in bed, tossing and turning, Tom asleep beside her. It was too hot under the sheets, too... stuffy, so she kicked one of her legs halfway out, yanking the sheets down past her waist to get some cool air onto her skin. Her mind wouldn't seem to switch off.

Strangely enough, she found herself thinking about Raymond, the dog she had met this morning, as well as his owner Dembe. Dembe's word seemed to come back to her, with what he had said to the dog.

He had mentioned something about a meeting, which seemed so strange to her. Since when do dogs go to meetings? It just didn't seem to make any logical bit of sense to her.

Hudson certainly didn't have to attend any meetings.

She huffed in laughter quietly at herself, at just where her mind was taking her. She was being so silly. Why on earth was she still thinking about this for? Especially at... She turned, glancing at the illuminated red numbers on the alarm clock on the dresser beside her. _Jesus, it was already two-thirty in the morning and yet, here she was, thinking about what a man had said to his dog?_

"Liz?" Tom's groggy, sleep-roughened voice startled her. "Are you still awake over there?"

She must have disrupted him from his sleeping by all the sheets rustling she was doing. Either that, or how she had laughed. She placed a hand against her sweaty forehead, sighing heavily. "Yeah, babe. I'm still awake."

"Why?"

"Weirdly enough, I'm... I'm actually thinking about Raymond."

"Raymond?" She heard Tom sit up, his voice thick with confusion. She had forgotten she hadn't said what the dog's name had so happened to be in the morning when she had told him what happened.

"The dog I met this morning. His name was... Raymond."

He laid back down heavily, making the mattress creak. "And you're up at _this_ ridiculous hour thinking about a dog?" Even by his tone, she knew he thought she was being stupid.

She frowned, peering up at the dark ceiling. "I _know_ it's silly," she muttered apologetically. "But I was just... thinking about what his owner said."

"His _owner_? _What_?"

"He said to the dog that he needed to go to a meeting." She had to purse her lips together to stop herself from laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all. "A _meeting,_ Tom. I mean, _since when_ do dogs have meetings of all things to attend?"

"Well, I don't know, Liz." She heard him yawn loudly. "Maybe he's one of those... stunt dogs or something? Or a... a dog they use in movies?"

Hmm, that wasn't unlikely. It could be possible. "Maybe you're right," she agreed tiredly in a soft whisper. " _Maybe_ he's a stunt dog or an acting dog? I know he seemed very... talented and intelligent? It was almost like he could understand the human language?"

She waited in silence for Tom to say something else, to give her his further output on it. Only, what she heard next, was nothing but his irritating, drawn-out snores. He had fallen back to sleep.

* * *

Waking up bright and early the next morning, Liz got dressed into a grey tank top and matching track pants, plopping down onto the edge of the bed as she slipped on her joggers and did the shoelaces up. It had turned just after six thirty and Tom was still fast asleep, grunting and mumbling incoherently in his sleep.

As she bent down to kiss him goodbye on the cheek, she thought she heard him grumble, "Please don't leave me for the dog, Liz," as she made her way out of the room.

Why Tom was mumbling about something so silly in his sleep, she had no idea. Or maybe it was due to what they had talked about in the middle of the night while she was having difficulty in getting to sleep? Maybe it was playing on her boyfriend's mind unconsciously?

She took her time as she got out of the front door of the apartment, getting into a light jog. She took the route she did every other morning in running four blocks before turning left into the path that led into the park. It was fairly deserted at this hour in the morning with only about three other people up and about.

As she slowed down to a brisk walk, panting strenuously for air, she stopped when a sudden stitch came beneath her ribs, grimacing. The back of her scalp felt drenched, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of her forehead. She was just working herself up into starting to jog again when she caught sight of something a blinding grey and white in the corner of her eye.

 _Raymond. Raymond was back in the park again._

She felt embarrassed at how excited she felt at the sight of him, at how much her heart seemed to soar in her chest. He was just a dog, after all. In this day and age, it was rare for a person not to have a pet dog and yet, here she was, grinning at the sight of him.

He was a fair distance away, sitting near one of the deserted benches. She couldn't help but get the impression that he was sitting and waiting for someone dutifully, but when she glanced around, she couldn't see his owner Dembe anywhere in sight.

It was a disturbing moment for her when the dog turned his head, his ears poking upright when he saw her. It was almost as though he recognized her from yesterday morning, and Liz's heart leaped nervously when he broke out into a full-on run, scampering straight towards her.

She stepped back instinctively, anxious that he was going to attack her or at the very least jump on her and throw her to the ground. Yet she noticed his powerful legs grow slower the closer he reached her.

When he did reach her, Raymond stopped straight in front of her, his bushy tail beating back and forth as he leaned down, licking the skin on her ankle peeking through her cut-off, three-quarter track pants.

"Hello again, Raymond," she said in her baby voice as she dropped to her knees, patting him. " _Why_ are you here so early? Where's your owner?"

While she knew the dog couldn't possibly talk back, she didn't care.

"You're not wearing your red neckerchief today?" she observed softly, smiling when he pushed his way in closer, his fur brushing against her as he licked the patch of skin exposed on her chest from her tank top. "Does your daddy Dembe let you roam out here all by yourself or is he around here somewhere with you, too?"

At least she knew the dog was being properly taken care of, if his healthy glistening coat was anything to go by. Dembe had obviously been treating his dog well; He didn't look malnourished or underfed. If he had, Liz would have been struggling on the very tempting urge to bring him home and adopt him.

She made herself stand, ignoring the dog's whines of protest. "Well, I have to go now, Raymond," she said to the dog quietly. "But it was _so good_ seeing you again. Maybe I'll see you back here tomorrow if you're here still?"

She gave Raymond one last scratch near his ears, noticing how the dog was almost peering up at her in a forlorn way, like he didn't want her to leave; His head tilted, tail between his legs.

It was hard, but Liz managed to pull herself away.

When she reached the back entrance of the park on the opposite end, she looked behind her shoulder, her heart falling in unease. Weirdly enough, Raymond was still as she had left him, watching her as she went.

* * *

Raymond was back again in the park when Liz jogged in at the same time the next morning. Just as the morning before, he was sitting by the deserted bench, only this time a brown paper bag was beside him on the grass.

Even although she was wearing different colored running clothes than the morning before- with a hooded jacket on for extra warmth, as it was cooler this morning- he still seemed to recognize her, amazingly enough.

The instance his greyish-green eyes landed on her, he stood with a yipping noise in greeting, bending down to pick up the paper bag between his teeth before breaking out into a slow jog towards her.

It was so bizarre, but she couldn't help get the feeling that he was waiting for her to come now every morning, as if he recognized that early morning exercising through the park was her routine.

Liz had heard that dogs could be loyal to a fault to their trusted human companions- and if she had to be honest, it was one of the reasons she loved dogs so much the way she did- and why she held preference for them over cats.

But she wasn't Raymond's owner, which made it startling most of all. _How could a dog become so loyal and excited to see someone when they weren't their owner and were simply a mere passing acquaintance for the past two mornings?_

"Hello again, Raymond," she called out affectionately through deep breaths as the dog padded towards her eagerly.

The breath seemed to hitch in her throat and she grew profoundly unnerved when the dog growled at her as he released the sealed paper bag from his teeth, dropping it on the grass near her trainers. He looked up at her then down at the unopened bag, panting; his pink tongue peeking through as he bared his sharp incisors to her.

She dropped down on her knees, running her fingers back and forth along the ridge between his eyes. He growled again, startling her. Liz pulled back nervously, almost dreading for him to suddenly nip her fingers painfully. But instead, Raymond lowered his head, nudging the paper bag twice.

 _Was he trying to say what she thought he was trying to say?_ Liz wondered in shock. _Was he trying to give her the bag?_

"Oh. You want me to take this, Raymond?" she asked uncertainly, her voice shaking. "You want me to open the bag and see whats inside?"

Astoundingly, it seemed that was what Raymond wanted. He looked at her with his luminescent eyes for a moment, head tilted. Then he lowered his head again, repeating his actions of before in nudging the bag with his nose. It took her breath away. The dog, he was truly amazing.

She grabbed the bag, setting it on her knee before uncurling the opening to peer inside curiously.

"Is this a doggy treat for you?" she asked in confusion, pushing the bag further open with her fingers to properly peer inside. It was food; she knew that much. As she reached inside, pulling it out carefully with shaking fingers, she realized it was a blueberry bagel. "Oh. Did your daddy Dembe give it to you, Raymond?"

Liz didn't think dogs liked- or could even eat bagels, no less. But obviously Raymond was not your everyday dog.

Startling her even more, Raymond stood, stepping close enough to push his wet nose against the crook of her neck. By the time she had finished squirming due to how freezing the tip of his black nose was, Raymond had already taken off, racing across the park without so much as a backwards glance at her.

It was only when he had disappeared completely out of eyesight that Liz thought she finally understood.

 _Wow. Raymond the dog had given her a blueberry bagel for breakfast._

Her heart hammering in her chest, Liz climbed off her knees to stand slowly, searching for where he had gone to while she tucked the blueberry bagel back into the paper bag. This really didn't make sense to her at all. Dogs could be extraordinarily intelligent, and she knew that. But intelligent enough to bring a human breakfast? To select a freshly-made bagel to purchase for breakfast from a store?

She picked up her speed, striding towards the place where he had suddenly vanished from. As she reached the entrance of the park, she stopped in her tracks at the two men that were just leaving through the parking lot.

One, she recognized as Dembe, Raymond's owner. He was talking to a man; A man a few inches shorter than he was, who was wearing a three-piece suit and a white fedora.

Her stomach clenched as she looked around them, trying to find Raymond. If his owner Dembe was there, then _where_ was the dog? Where was Raymond, his four-legged friend?

It just didn't make any sense.

 **Hope you enjoyed this one? :-) Thank you so much for showing your interest, I know it is probably crazy. Dog Raymond is going to get very protective of Liz, especially when he sees she's with Tom. And very soon they will meet with Red in his human form; Possibly similar to the show where he has handed himself in to become an informant, if that seems interesting? Or I can just create an alternate universe more, different than the show completely?**

 **I was inspired by reading about and watching the movie on the dog Hachi. If you haven't heard of him (or seen the movie about him), you definitely should. I'd love to know where you would like for it to go.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **Thank you so much, hope you enjoy this chappy! Finally, Liz and Red meet in Red's human form lol.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 3**_

With what was fast becoming a habit for Liz and also something that brightened up her start to the day, she got changed into her workout gear, tying up her running shoes before jogging out the door. She had an excuse to look forward to running now, and that excuse was to get the chance to see Raymond.

She jogged briskly to the park, focusing on breathing in-and-out slowly through both her nose and mouth. Once she ran in through the opening, she stopped, glancing around, sweat rolling from the side of her face.

"Oh, damn," she muttered under her breath in disappointment. Unfortunately, this morning she couldn't see the dog anywhere.

"You look as though someone has just killed your dog," a man's voice suddenly came from behind her. Liz startled, clutching a hand over her chest as she glanced over towards where the voice had come from.

She hadn't realized a man was sitting on the bench. Frankly, she had been too preoccupied with searching for Raymond, the Siberian Husky and her new furry friend. The man was about middle-aged, in his late forties or early fifties, she estimated. He was wearing a grey vest, button-up shirt and trousers with a black fedora, his eyes hidden behind a pair of amber-colored aviators.

He was holding the day's addition of the newspaper in his hands, but he was paying more attention to Liz than what was on the news headline in front of him.

"Excuse me?" she muttered in confusion.

"Your face," the man explained while beginning to fold up the newspaper neatly. "You look as though someone has just killed your dog?"

She let out a gush of air through her mouth. "Yeah, well. It's funny you should say that." She laughed at the irony of his words. "I've actually made a canine friend here recently. _Unfortunately_ it doesn't seem as though he's made it out here this morning." She looked around the park again, scanning through the trees. She thought that perhaps he was resting beneath a tree in the shade, yet he wasn't. Her heart sank further. "Damn. What a shame."

When she glanced sideways at the man again, she noticed he was still watching her, his head tilted slightly to the side. He seemed almost amused- his lips were curled into a small smile- and it made her feel uneasy, particularly with the way he was so avidly staring at her. Why on earth was he staring? It made her feel so terribly awkward.

"Aren't you hot in what you're wearing?" she asked, the only thing she could think of to say to slice through the awkwardness she felt. "It's meant to be pretty warm today?"

He glanced down at the clothes he was wearing himself while chewing the inside of his cheek, it seemed. When he returned his gaze to her, he shrugged. "Oh, believe me. It is _far_ hotter with fur."

She wasn't sure whether it was meant to be a joke on his part or not, but she forced a small smile on her lips anyway.

"Okay. Fair enough then." She grew aware of herself then, realizing she was stoking the scar on her wrist repetitively with her fingers; Something she knew she did whenever she was uncomfortable or nervous. Considering that this stranger was making her feel incredibly uneasy, she figured it was no surprise. Desperate to leave, she figured out a way to say goodbye nicely. "Anyway, it was... nice meeting you. I better go."

She was just about to return to her running, when suddenly his voice held her back.

"Freesia," he said loudly as if suddenly remembering something, stunning her. "I _knew_ it was something to that effect."

She inched closer towards where he was sitting slightly, "I beg your pardon?"

"Forgive me, it's just that you... you smell so nice. I gather a hint of freesia with rose and jasmine."

Liz's heart seemed to stop for a single second in her chest as she arched her eyebrows at him. How disturbing. She remembered the fragrance on the back of the antiperspirant deodorant she had put on every morning before running. It was exactly as he had described it; Freesia, with notes of rose and jasmine. But how could he have possibly known that? She sniffed around herself discreetly, but she couldn't smell anything. So how could he have known that?

"How _on earth_ did you possibly-"

"- I have been told _many_ times over the years that I have an _exceptional_ sense of smell," he explained, lifting his chin in a haughty and proud manner. He added under his breath, mainly talking to himself, "I think the same also can be said for hearing."

"Um. Okay?" The man was a little too eccentric for her tastes. It was starting to freak her out. "Like a dog," she added apprehensively before she could stop herself.

"Oh, yes." His voice went deeper, gruffer. " _Exactly_ like a dog." She waited in a tense silence for him to smile at her or to, at the very least, laugh to show he was joking. Neither came. He simply remained silent as he lifted an arm to rest it up on the back of the bench, staring at her, his head tilted.

She decided the man was the most unnerving person Liz had ever met. And _intense_ , with the certain way he seemed to stare.

"Okay, well," she began apprehensively, toeing the grass with the tips of her runners, "Like I said, I'm off now. It was... great to meet you."

"What's your name?" he asked with interest.

"Elizabeth." She wasn't even so sure she wanted him to know her name. "My name is Elizabeth."

He nodded once, pursing his lips. "Lizzie."

"Excuse me?" She laughed nervously. "No, my name isn't Lizzie. It... it's just Elizabeth."

"Well, _I_ prefer Lizzie. _I'll_ call you Lizzie."

"What's _your_ name then?" she prompted impatiently when he didn't give her his in return.

"Ray-" He began, but she noticed he quickly stopped himself, pressing his lips together with a tight-lipped smile at her. He swallowed loudly, before he said in a low, throaty rumble, " _Red_. You can call me _Red_."

"Okay, then. I'll be leaving now _Red_."

She gave him one last look before she turned, working herself into a light jog again. She shook her head in bewilderment, still stuck on the man and their bizarre conversations.

"Jesus," she huffed under her breath. "What a _strange_ guy."

Liz thought she now understood what people meant when they said they preferred an animal's company over humans.

Something caught her eye to the side of her and when she threw a glance down at the pavement, she saw that Raymond was suddenly by her side, loping at a matching pace near her. She had assumed his owner Dembe hadn't let him out today, but apparently she was wrong.

He _had_ actually arrived and she _did_ get her chance to see him this morning.

She stopped running, cooing excitedly when Raymond suddenly padded closer, his tail wagging frenziedly.

"Hey there, Raymond. I didn't think you were gonna be here today?" She held her arm out to him, and he started licking her palm, his tongue tickling her. "I've got to make a start on running back home. I have important things to do today."

His ears twitched as he made a whining noise.

"Oh, I _know_ , adorable boy," she whispered, running her fingers through his luxurious coat. "I wish I didn't have to go either, but I just _do_."

When she moved back and started walking, she was disheartened when Raymond wouldn't seem to let her leave. He started tagging closely beside her, panting as he looked up at her with his bright, almond-shaped eyes, his head tilted.

She began to feel increasingly nervous when they reached the back entrance of the park. Even as they stopped by the busy road to cross it, Raymond was still following her, like he mistakenly thought she was carrying food in her hand and he was waiting for her to feed it to him. What if he got lost all because he kept following her? What if, worst case scenario, he ran out onto the road and got hit?

"No, Raymond," she said, making her voice stern and sharp. She turned, pointing towards the park. "You can't follow me home. _Go back_ into the park and wait for your daddy Dembe." He didn't listen. He simply stared up at her, his tail moving leisurely. "Go! It's too dangerous if you are out here by the road!"

She huffed in annoyance when the dog ignored her, following her as she ran across the street once it was safe. She tried a few more attempts at intimidating the dog and putting on a fierce and authoritative voice, yet she had no success. Raymond was keen on stubbornly following her home.

By the time she had reached the front steps to her apartment, he was still stuck at her side.

" _Go_ home, Raymond!" Liz tried again, pointing in the direction they had came. "I'm sorry, but you _can't_ come inside! _Go_!"

The front door opened as Tom came out to see what was happening, still dressed in his boxers and old ratty T-shirt. He blinked heavy, having obviously only just woken. "Hey, babe. What's going on?"

"He won't go home, Tom," she explained, glancing down at Raymond in frustration. He was just standing there, watching her. "He followed me all the way from the park to the house. Maybe he wants some water?"

"So _this_ is the dog you were talking about, huh?" Tom asked, stepping slowly down the steps, eyeing the Siberian Husky with curiosity. "This is Raymond?

Liz noticed, maybe even before Tom did, the disturbing shift in Raymond's temperament. A low rumble left him from where he stood beside her that sounded very much like a dangerous threat, making the patches of white and grey fur on his back bristle up. Liz recognized a dog on the verge of attacking when she saw one.

Fear grasping hold of her, she held her arm out, stopping Tom from reaching the bottom step. "Tom, move back," she warned in a low voice, keeping her eyes on nothing else but Raymond. "Don't step any closer to him."

"Gee, he isn't at all how you described he was," Tom said carelessly. "I _thought_ you said he was a nice dog? Doesn't look so nice now, does he?"

Raymond obviously didn't like Tom very much, which was odd. His aggressive behavior confused her; Their dog Hudson certainly didn't react to Tom in this way.

In all the mornings she had come across him in the park, he had seemed docile and friendly to her.

Now however, with the terrible snarling noises he was making as he bared his teeth to Tom, curling his upper lip and showing his sharp incisors and canines, she realized just how threatening and dangerous this dog could potentially be. Spittle flew out as his rumbling growl grew even more intense.

His luminous greyish-green eyes were wide and hostile.

"Tom," Liz warned again, pushing him back with her arm.

The tension and danger in the air seemed to settle once Tom managed to retreat back inside, shutting the door gently. Just like that, Raymond changed; his hostile stance at once disappearing, his friendliness returning now that it was just her and him.

He let her know he meant _her_ no harm or potential threat when he pushed his nose into her hand, licking her fingers, yet she couldn't forget how terrifying he had looked moments ago, as though he were a second away from lunging at Tom and fatally ripping his throat off.

Once she had managed to coax Raymond to leave her side and return to the park, she went inside, finding Tom standing by the door. He looked every bit as shaken as she felt.

"You okay, babe?" she asked with concern, her voice tremulous. She reached up, rubbing her hand along his arm, noticing he was trembling slightly. "God, I... I don't know what happened? Usually, in all the three times I've seen him at the park, he's been docile and well-behaved. I had _no idea_ he would act like that."

"I think he was staking a claim, Liz. He sees you as _his_ human." She gave him a look, unsure of whether he was joking around with her or not.

"What? Staking a claim? Don't be ridiculous, Tom."

"Possessive," Tom went on with a nervous laugh. "I think _someone's_ grown to be a little possessive of you."

 **How was this one? Creepy and strange first meeting with human Red? Silly? I'm going to mix up the events of what happened with the fire too, and how Liz got her scar, which I hope you won't mind. Just for creative purposes and fitting it more so to the universe of shifters :-) I would love to know what you think. Thank you so much!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **Thank you so much for being so kind! I really appreciate it! Hope this one is all right?**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 4**_

By the time Tom came home from work, Liz was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich. Her appetite these past few days had been crazy. She wasn't sure where the sudden change came from, but all she knew was that she was eating more than usual. It was as though her appetite for food couldn't be satiated.

He paused in the doorway as he looked at her, carrying a plastic bag. "I hope you're still hungry because I brought home Chinese?" It was their thing; On a particular day of the week, they would buy takeout. This week was Tom's turn.

She wiped breadcrumbs off her face hastily with her hand, moaning loudly. "Mm, yes please. I _love_ Chinese."

"Yes, I _know_ you do. Which is why I got some on the way home."

"My appetite has been so weird lately, Tom. For the past few days I've been constantly hungry and I have _no idea_ why."

"Then I hope you still have room for more?"

"Definitely. I think I can manage. I had a big lunch on my break, and yet, here I am... starving still."

"Maybe its because you've been working out more than you usually do?" He suggested while placing the bag on the sink, pulling out the takeout containers. It was true and Liz had been working out more lately. It was the chance of seeing Raymond that was now acting as her motivator. "To see that feral dog that you seem so obsessed with?"

"Feral? You make him sound like he's Cujo?" She laughed through a mouthful of her sandwich. "He's definitely _something_ but I wouldn't say he's feral, Tom." She swallowed down the mouthful of bread, hesitating. There was something she wanted to ask him; something she had been thinking about all day. She had no idea how he would react to it, but she figured there was no harm in seeing. "Um, so... I was thinking about it today while doing my psychology course, but how would you feel if we adopted another dog into the family?"

Tom made a face at her. "And by _another_ dog, you mean Raymond. Right?" Just by the look on his face, she knew he wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea.

"I just... I feel it wouldn't be such a bad idea? I mean, he seems so... attached to me in such an unbelievably strange way. And, besides, I think Hudson could do well with another playmate?"

Tom paused from opening the containers, staring at her while placing his hands on his hips. _Yes, he definitely was not keen on the idea._

"What? You don't think he's even _just the slightest_ bit cute?"

"Cute? Yeah, Raymond looked pretty damn cute to me when he looked as though he wanted to maul my face straight off my skull when he followed you home from the park this morning, Liz."

"Maul your face off? He's probably just... cautious of certain people? He had never met you before, whereas he's grown used to me?" It was the only logical explanation she could think of.

"Or _maybe_ he just wanted to maul my face right off because he's become possessive of you and sees you as _his_ now?"

"Sees me as _his_?" She still found it so ridiculous when he put it that way. "I _really don't_ think that was it. I don't think dogs even actually think that way."

"Well, we'll _never really_ know how dogs think, will we, Liz?"

Tom's voice had risen and she realized she was frustrating him. Usually they hardly ever fought or got into many arguments, but right now, on this subject, he obviously wasn't having any of it.

"Besides, I _thought_ you said you met his owner?"

"Yeah, and that's what I thought too. I thought he _was_ his owner." Liz sighed loudly, shoving the rest of her bitten sandwich onto the plate, her appetite diminished. "But you don't see him sitting there at the park like I do every time I go there, Tom. He looks so...lonely. I'm not even sure if that man _was_ his owner, but I just... I assumed he was. But he's _never_ there with him."

"Well, we can't exactly adopt him if he belongs to someone else, can we?" Tom pointed out in a gentle, patient tone. She knew it was his way of reasoning her out of it. "If he's someone else's dog already, then there is no point, is there?"

Liz rubbed her eyes with her fingers, her face tight with concern. "I don't know. It just seems like his owner is neglectful if he is never there at the park with him, Tom? It's like he lets him run around all day, regardless of how unsafe it could be. You know how busy the traffic gets. I just... I don't like the idea of him getting run over, that's all."

"Look, I just _don't_ feel comfortable with the idea of us adopting this dog, that's all. I mean, you've only met him three or four times, and yeah... he seems pretty friendly _to you_. But _to me_ he wasn't and..." He sighed loudly. "I don't know about you, babe, but I just wouldn't feel comfortable with _that dog_ in the house." He stopped to rub his fingers over his forehead in irritation. "I wouldn't even be able to sleep half the time, if I knew he was downstairs sleeping next to Hudson. I'd be paranoid _all the time_ that he would sneak up into the bedroom just to attack me for simply being next to you!"

"Okay, Tom," she agreed in a placating tone, lifting a hand in the air. "So you _don't_ want another dog. You _don't want_ a dog like him in the house. I'm sorry I even broached the subject. _Clearly_ you've had a very long and stressful day at work so I'm sorry. I won't talk about it ever again with you."

"Good. I'm glad you understand then," Tom muttered sourly. "Let's just _stop_ talking about this. Thank you."

But even although Liz promised not to talk about the subject anymore, it still didn't prevent her from thinking about it.

* * *

"I just don't understand _any_ of it," Liz said loudly with a mouthful of toothpaste as she brushed her teeth after dinner, getting ready for bed. She peered out into the bedroom where Tom was chucking the decorative pillows on their bed onto the ground in a pile. "Hudson has never responded to you in an overly aggressive way, has he?"

 _So much for not talking about it..._

Tom sighed loudly as he took off his glasses, sitting them near the lamp on the bedside table. "I don't think so, Liz." He sounded bored by the conversation, but she just couldn't help talking about it. "There _was_ one time where he bit my hand and made me bleed last year. Remember that? He was only play-fighting, though."

Liz spat the toothpaste in the sink, rinsing her toothbrush under the tap quickly. "I've heard that dogs are supposed to have really good insight into a person's character, yet Hudson doesn't feel threatened with you at all, so I don't understand the reaction? Hudson's a dog too, and yet he has no problem with you? He doesn't sense any threat there?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what it means or why he got his hackles up the way he did, Liz? I'm a teacher that deals with forth grade students, not a behavioral expert on dogs." She was definitely irritating him. "I just don't understand why you want to talk about it so much?"

"I don't know, babe." She shrugged helplessly. "I guess I just... I find it strange. And interesting. And... _peculiar_ the way he reacted to you. Maybe it's just a Husky thing and the kind of temperament they have? I don't know." He turned to give her an annoyed look while he pulled back the bed-sheets, and Liz made a deliberate and conscious decision to drop it then.

* * *

The alarm went off at seven-thirty the next morning. Liz quickly shifted onto her side to switch it off when she heard Tom groan loudly. She slipped out of bed, heading into the bathroom to get changed into her workout gear. By the time she had reached the park, she felt exhausted as she looked around for Raymond.

When her eyes found him sitting near the empty bench, a full bright smile spread across her face at the sight of him.

Why wouldn't Tom let them adopt him? It wasn't fair.

While she was aware that Raymond already had a owner in the man Dembe, it didn't seem as though he actually cared about Raymond's safety too much if he let him have free reign to do whatever he pleased in roaming around, sitting in the park of a morning.

Liz plopped down onto her knees on the grass, which sent Raymond scampering over towards her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he made whining noises in excitement. If she had to be honest, she loved this; She loved the idea that Raymond only went and sat at the park for the sole purpose of waiting for her. It made Liz feel special.

"Good morning, Raymond," she whispered softly once he reached her. He raised his head slightly, seeming to sniff the air surrounding them.

When she patted the spot in front of her, Raymond sat with Liz on the grass, sprawling out with his head resting on his two front paws as he crisscrossed them.

"So you didn't like Tom much yesterday, huh?" she asked uncertainly. "We've been dating for almost over a year now. He has his moments but he is a... a really great guy. He teaches forth grade." She was beyond caring how stupid it was to try to maintain conversation with a dog that couldn't respond back in any shape or form. But, to be honest, she found she was enjoying it. He couldn't pass judgement on her in anyway, because it was physically impossible for him to. "You _really_ scared him, though. Now he gets the impression you're like a rabid Cujo. I think he's petrified of you but... something tells me you wanted that, didn't you?"

When she lifted her hand, about to pat his head, he lifted his muzzle, his long pink tongue flicking out around the scar on her wrist. Then he stopped, sniffing at the skin curiously before giving it one last tentative lick. It seemed to Liz that he was asking about it.

"You want to know what that is? What it is on my hand? One of your brothers or sisters gave it to me..."

Raymond lifted his head to the side, staring up at her, his ears twitching.

"There was a fire at my house when I was little. I was about... four or five, I think. I remember my parents were shouting and I noticed the flames from the fire, it was burning the curtains... crawling up them, and yet... they didn't seem to pay me any attention. But then... I remember it sliding in from behind me. It was a...a dog."

She could remember like it was yesterday; Screaming for her Mommy and Daddy to listen, to help, only to see something a furry grey slivering in behind her.

"I don't remember whose dog it was, because... I was never allowed to have pets, so he _definitely_ wasn't mine. But _he saved_ my life that night." She bit down on her bottom lip with her teeth, suppressing an astonished laugh as she shook her head slowly. "My parents weren't listening and then _suddenly_ , _he_ was there, just like that. I don't even know how he got in. Maybe through a window or maybe the front door was left ajar? I can't seem to remember that. But what I _do_ remember is that the flames were coming closer to me, and there was this... great burst of heat. And you want to know what he did? The dog?"

She looked down at Raymond affectionately whose luminous, piercing eyes were still on her. It was as though he was engrossed in her story, strangely enough. As if he could _actually_ _comprehend_ what she was saying.

"Well, he grabbed me by my right hand, holding it in his mouth with his teeth, and he dragged me back away from the flames. His bite was _so_ strong... I had no choice but to let him yank me all the way out of the house to safety. I don't think I really understood what he was trying to do at the time, this... strange dog. I think I thought he intended to hurt me, so I struggled."

She held her hand out, palm facing towards him, showing him the mark again. The pinkish red teeth marks hadn't completely healed, even after over twenty years.

"I think the struggling made it worse than it could have been. He obviously was only trying to cling onto me to get me to safety yet... with me struggling to get my hand free, it made his teeth go into the skin further. I think I had to have about... five stitches in my hand when I got to the hospital. That, and a rabies shot and antiseptic because we couldn't tell whether the dog had any infectious diseases that could be transferred over from the saliva into the wound that would make me sick. I remember being so terrified though, because... there was _all of this_ blood and when I looked at the dog briefly, I think I remember he had specks of blood all over his fur and around his mouth, too."

Liz didn't have a clue what happened to the mysterious dog that had ended up rescuing her from the house. Considering it had happened quite a long time ago, she naturally had assumed the dog would have died by now, seeing as the average lifespan for a dog is between ten to sixteen years at average.

"I don't know what happened to the dog, though," she admitted to Raymond contemplatively. "He must have ran off straight afterwards, which... was probably best. I tried to tell them afterwards that he had saved me, that the dog pulled me out of the house, only none of the adults believed me. I was just a little girl, after all. They just kept ignoring me and going on and on about sending out the dogcatchers to find him. They were going to euthanize him, I think."

She could remember the way he had left her there, standing on the grass, crying as she cradled her bleeding hand to her stomach while she waited for the ambulance and firemen to arrive.

He had a particular limp to his back legs and when he had paused for a moment to twist his head back to look at her, she remembered seeing how strange and mangled his fur had looked as his eyes glowed at her through the dark. It had looked as though the fur had been singed straight off him, which, now that she was older, she understood it must have been because the fire had gotten at him.

She couldn't even remember what actual breed the dog had been or what he had looked like, at the very least. Just small fragments, like how his fur appeared white. Time had made the memories foggier and unclear.

"I'm pretty sure he got burnt. I _think_ I... remember him panting and making little sad huffs, like he was hurting. A spot on his fur was charred and black, and bloody. I think he got hurt saving me, but I don't know what happened to him after he left and ran off. It was good that he left, though. They would have put him down otherwise, but I hope now... _wherever_ he is, that he is somewhere at peace and is happy." She sighed loudly.

It sank in how ridiculous she was being with having an in-depth, one-sided conversation with a dog, when she glanced down at Raymond as he grunted. At least she could actually say whatever she wanted to him, without having to fear what he would think, or whether he found her theory about the dog saving her ludicrous. _That_ part of it was nice. He was still watching her and she felt absurdly emotional when he came closer, resting his head on her knee. She felt moisture prickle in her eyes.

"I think _that's_ why I ended up loving doggies like you so much," she said in a purposefully brighter voice, and she used her fingernails to scratch his head. "What they are capable of doing for a human, to save a little girls life all because they heard her screams, it... its _amazing_."

 _ **Hope you enjoyed this one?**_

 _ **No human Red in this chapter but there will be plenty of him next chapter, I promise. So I altered the original fire story-line and have possibly turned it into something illogical and silly, but I do hope you won't mind? Or is it too ridiculous? Thank you so much for reading and for the lovely reviews I have received! It has made my day! Please do keep them coming!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **Thank you so much for being so kind! Thank you for the reviews and follows, I really appreciate it! Hope this one is all right?**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5**_

When Liz jogged into the park the next morning, she was disappointed to find the Siberian Husky wasn't waiting for her.

No, what she got instead, was that peculiar man from the day before. _Red._

She caught him out of the corner of her eye sitting on the green bench where Raymond usually waited near for her of a morning; One arm stretched across the back of the bench, one leg crossed over the other, one of his brown loafers bobbing up and down as he swung his foot to a silent rhythm that no one else could hear but himself, it seemed.

She thought she saw his head move in her direction and her stomach sank. She really was unsure of what to make of the man; Her conversation with him previously replayed in her mind automatically, and it had been anything _but_ pleasant.

He had made cryptic comments about fur being far hotter than clothing and had boasted about how he had above par smelling and hearing sense than the normal human ability. Hell, he even correctly guessed the fragrance of the antiperspirant she was often wearing. He had made her feel extremely uncomfortable, particularly in the way he seemed to stare at her, like she was some sort of personal deity.

He was reason enough alone for her to consider pretending she hadn't seen him while she made a run for it back out of the park. He was definitely the type of man sitting in the park that you wanted to avoid, yet he was having none of it.

He made it clear he had seen her when he lifted his arm off the bench, raising his hand and twiddling his fingers at her in a wave. Just what he was doing alone made a gush of uneasiness gather inside of her as her stomach filled with knots.

"Good morning, Lizzie," he called loudly in greeting, his voice cheerful.

Inhaling deeply, she reluctantly started striding towards him. Once she was standing about three inches away from him, she answered back, "Yes. Good morning to you, too."

"He hasn't arrived yet again, I take it?" Red asked, though she wasn't completely following. When she stared at him in confusion, he sent a tight-lipped smile her way. "The dog? The canine friend you had mentioned during our last meeting?"

Understanding immediately flickered across her face. "Oh, yeah, that's right," she muttered, forcing out an awkward laugh while avoiding his gaze when she realized he was back to staring up at her. _Jesus, why was the man so creepy?_ _Why did he elicit such discomfort within her with his eyes and mere body language alone?_ "He, um, he doesn't seem to be here this morning." Deliberately, she dragged her eyes around the park, finding the scenery so much less daunting than the man sitting on the bench in front of her.

"What are you up to today?"

When she brought her eyes back to him, she saw he was still smiling at her, his head tilted to the side as he raked his greyish-green eyes down her workout gear. It took Liz a second to get her head straight. "Um, well... I'm studying at the moment so... when I get home I'll probably get changed and head off."

"Studying?" He returned his eyes to her face at last, making her feel disturbingly tense. "Studying what exactly?" He simply sounded harmlessly interested in what she did.

"Psychology," she explained shortly.

"Psychology," he repeated under his breath with a nod. "And is that something in which you enjoy?"

"Well, you kind of _do_ have to enjoy it if you're investing all your time into getting a diploma. But yeah, it... it _is_ something I find myself enjoying."

He nodded again, lifting his gaze to meet hers. He was squinting at her through the glare of the early morning sun. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses today, she observed. She also thought that there was a strange familiarity there about his eyes, though Liz wasn't entirely sure why she felt that way. The familiarity of them didn't stop her from feeling uncomfortable in his presence, however.

Liz purposefully avoided his gaze again by glancing down at her hands, which she laced in front of her stomach by the fingers. She was in flight or fight mode, and every muscle in her body was aching for her to make a flight and get away from him as quickly as humanly possible.

"How ironic it is," she heard him say, and when she glanced up at him, his eyes were still on her.

He was chewing the inside of his cheek as he looked up at her, his head still tilted to the side. He reminded her of Raymond then, for some strange reason, which was ridiculous. Just with the way she had noticed Raymond would tilt his head a particular way.

"Excuse me?" she said in confusion. She shook her head. "Ironic?" She had no idea what he was talking about. It was as though he was starting a conversation she hadn't even known they were having.

"Yes, _ironic_." His lips curled into a smile again, his voice a low, deep rumble. "I just find it... _ironic_ how a person can have preference over one form rather than the other." It was like Red knew something she didn't, and it made her stomach muscles tighten.

 _What on earth was he talking about?_

"Um. I'm not so sure that I'm following?" she spluttered, shaking her head again.

"Does your boyfriend know?" he suddenly asked, making her blood feel as though it had turned ice-cold. It was an utterly unpleasant sensation.

"Excuse me? My... my _boyfriend_?" How did he _even know_ she had a boyfriend?

They had only met once before, and Liz certainly hadn't talked to a stranger about her relationship. The only person she could remember mentioning Tom to was not a person at all, but a dog. _Raymond._

Her relationship with Tom, she felt, was private and her own personal business. She hardly even talked about her relationship with anyone, not even with the fellow students in her Psychology class. Unless he was simply assuming she did have one? Yes, he was probably only assuming. After all, plenty of women her age and younger were known to be in steady, serious relationships.

"Forgive me if I'm seeming intrusive and prying..." He paused, placing a hand on the left side of his chest, his fingers splayed. "But does Tom know about the scar? The bite?" _Oh my God,_ she thought fearfully as he went on, dipping his chin towards her hands, _How does he know his name is Tom?_ "Does he know how you came to get it and just what it means for you?"

Fear made her heart race furiously in her chest. He _even_ knew about the bite. How a dog had tried to save her by pulling her out of her burning childhood home, saving her life and giving her an injury in the process. How did he know about that? Who _was_ this man?

Just what it means for her? " _What_ are you talking about?" she burst out, her voice shaking. "I... I _don't_ understand?"

"You are very nearly thirty years old, Lizzie." _God, so he even knew her age?_ "It will happen sooner or later, no doubt." She realized his face looked filled with concern, with sympathy. "And, when the time _does_ eventually come, you'll be powerless to stop it. The _first_ time..." His voice trailed off as he shook his head at her, almost wistfully, as though he was remembering something in his past, his eyes going distanced and faraway although he was still staring at her. "Good heavens, _the first time_ , Lizzie. The first time is _always..._ excruciating, but it does become easier." She saw the muscle below his eyelid twitch. "First, it's the strangest tingling sensation in both your fingers and your toes, and then _gradually_... it builds, spreading around your skin, until it reaches the inside out. Shaking your rib-cage, your... spine. It isn't an entirely painless process but it dissipates the more it happens."

It was as though he was trying to console her and ease her mind somehow. Console her for whatever reason, Liz had no idea in the world. She didn't even know what he was talking about to begin with.

"Look, I... I don't know who _the hell_ you think you are or how you possibly know things about me, but I... I _never told_ you _any_ of that?" Her body started shaking; she was that unnerved by him and what he was telling her. She gritted her teeth, grounding out in a terrified mutter, "How did you know about Tom and the bite from the dog? Just _who the hell_ do you _think_ you are?"

Trepidation taking hold of her, Liz spun around, making the walk back through the park hurriedly, her instincts to run winning.

"Just _stay away_ from me," she cried out fearfully, not bothering to turn her head back to check and see if he had heard her.

Even as she reached the front steps to the apartment, she was still shaking uncontrollably. She felt sick with fear, because how could he have known all those things about her? How could this stranger know so many things about her? _Personal_ things? And what was he talking about, with going into his little weird description about tingling hands and toes?

 **Hope you enjoyed this one? :-) Human Red and Lizzie's conversation didn't go down so well, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. The story probably keeps getting more and more ridiculous, but it IS an AU. Hoping you don't mind it.**

 **Thank you so much for being so kind and encouraging about the story. I never expected that! Next chapter, while Tom is away at a weekend "teacher conference", Liz will let Raymond sleep over where some strangely nightly occurrences will happen. :) If there is anything else you would like to see in the story, feel free to let me know. Thank you again, and hopefully see you next update!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **Thank you so much for being so kind! Thank you for the reviews and follows, I really appreciate it! Hope this one is all right?**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 6**_

Tom and her were in bed, laying around. He was on top of her with his body, kissing her, touching her.

He ran his hand slowly down her shoulder, finding one of her breasts, which he cupped through the fabric of her shirt. With a deep moan, Liz broke the kiss, her body heaving into him.

"Escape artist," she heard herself whisper, her voice strange in tone. It was deeper, huskier with arousal.

He bent his head, his lips moving against her throat. Another deep sigh escaped her.

"Hmm?"

"Escape artist, Tom," she repeated breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling as his lips kept exploring her skin. "Did you _know_ that Siberian Huskies are called escape artists because of their talent for escaping?"

It seemed she had said the wrong thing; She had gone and put her foot into it. Frankly, she didn't even know why such a fact occurred to her, especially right in the moment, where they were getting down to having sex in their bed.

"Are you serious?" A tight, bitter laugh escaped him. "Are you being serious right now, Liz? You're talking about that damn dog again? Right now?"

He was annoyed and she could sense that. She placed both hands on his shoulders, rubbing up and down, soothing him. "I... I'm sorry," she laughed in embarrassment. "I don't even know where the thought came from or... or why it's even running through my mind right now?"

"You don't know?" He looked at her, his eyes searching her face, doubt in them. "You don't think you're _even just a little bit_ obsessed with that dog, Liz?"

"Obsessed?" Her brows furrowed. She could tell her attempts to sooth him weren't working. "I... I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe I _am_ a little obsessed with that dog?"

She was too busy staring up at him that it took her a moment longer to notice the bedroom door had spilled open as a shadow slipped into the room. A low, unpleasant rumbling noise suddenly filled the room, then a guttural snarl. It sounded like a running engine, yet it was louder; More louder and menacing.

Tom fell onto his side, turning away from her to glance at whatever was making the noise near the door. Liz watched his face, noticing it go ashen, his eyes widening with fear.

"Babe, what is it?" she asked nervously. "What... what's making that weird noise?"

" _Goddamn_ it, Liz," Tom spat out, his voice lifting in anger as he threw the sheets off himself, about to rise from the bed. " _What_ did I tell you? I _told_ you I didn't want that damn _dog_ in the house, only you didn't listen, did you?" He was angry in a way she hadn't seen nor experienced from him before; His face went red, a vein in his throat twitching. " _Why_ are you _so_ stupid? I _told_ you-"

He never got to finish his sentence.

In a fast blur that Liz didn't see coming, a dog suddenly leaped at Tom with a feral snarl. They went down together, Tom falling back against the pillows, struggling as Raymond's teeth fastened around his throat. _Oh, God, the dog was Raymond. It was Raymond._ Tom was shrieking in pain, his arms flailing as he tried to hit Raymond, to get him off. Only it was too late. Something red and warm splashed into Liz's face as with one last growl, Raymond yanked with his teeth, Tom's throat tearing off. Tom was gurgling helplessly, staring openly up at the ceiling, unseeing.

Liz screamed, falling back off the bed, scrambling to her feet to help. She was screaming, crying.

"Raymond, _stop_! Why did you have to do that?" When Raymond retreated off the bed, his muzzle streaked with blood, she climbed back onto the bed, hovering over Tom. "Tom? Babe? _Say_ something!"

She held his face gently between her hands, horrified at how ice-cold and stiff his skin felt.

"Babe?" she croaked out through tears, shaking him. There was a big gash missing out of his throat. Blood... blood everywhere. "Babe, _please_ don't be dead! _Tom_?"

When she glanced over at Raymond, he was still there, watching her. The blood had turned his jaw red.

"You're a monster," she heard herself scream before she could stop herself. The dog flinched back at the hate and anger in her voice. "Do you _hear that_ , Raymond? Tom _was_ right! You _are_ a feral monster!"

The room seemed to sway and shake and, suddenly, Raymond the dog was no longer standing there. Instead, in his place, was the man from the park. The strange man.

 _Red._

Just like Raymond the dog, he had blood on his face. Smears of it around his mouth, his chin. He was wearing a black fedora and a white suit. The suit had splatters of blood all over it.

He reminded her of Raymond, but... human.

When he started strolling closer to look at Tom's dead body, Liz scrambled back again, holding her body against the headboard, pulling her knees up into her chest, her arms covering her face protectively as she shook. She caught between her arms him scrutinize Tom's body, evaluating the gash in his throat with little more than hatred. There was no remorse there, no... anything. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook his head, tutting his tongue.

Then, he spoke, his voice a low, cold rumble, "I _told_ you to stay away from Lizzie, Tom."

Liz jerked awake, tears sliding down her face, fear making it impossible for her to breathe. She sat up slowly, her heart soaring in relief when she heard Tom snoring beside her in bed. When she reached out with her fingers to touch him, she closed her eyes in relief at the warmth of his skin. He was alive. It was just a dream, a terrible one. It wasn't real.

Raymond hadn't truly killed Tom. It wasn't real.

 _What a horrible dream._

Yet, she felt confused about the man randomly entering her dream, the one from the park. _Red._

Why did Raymond turn into Red, the man? Or was it just their disturbing conversation a few days ago that was still playing on her mind? It was probably the only reason why she dreamed of him. After all, dogs couldn't turn into humans and Tom wasn't dead. It was just a mere dream. Dreams often didn't need to make any sort of logical sense anyway.

* * *

Tom was away at a teaching conference in Boston for the weekend, so Liz had the weekend to herself. She was looking forward to having a quiet and restful weekend by curling up on the sofa and reading a good book, or even watch a silly comedy. Maybe she would even have a few decadent glasses of the Pinot Noir red wine that was still chilling unopened in the fridge.

After feeding Hudson some canned food, Liz went upstairs and got undressed, slipping into her bathrobe. As she returned downstairs while tying the sash tightly around her waist, she patted Hudson who was happily chowing away on the food in his bowl like he hadn't been fed for days before opening the fridge. She yanked the cork out on the Pinot Noir, pouring in a decent amount that was definitely more than a standard drink into her wine glass.

As she carried the wine glass into the living room to settle down and make herself at home on the couch, sipping it, that was when she heard a strange noise coming from the front door. She placed the wine glass on the table, listening cautiously.

It seemed like a faint scratching noise. Something or _someone_ was scratching the paint off on the front door.

"What on earth?" she muttered under her breath in confusion, tightening the sash on her robe tighter as she went to open the front door.

She unlocked the door, inhaling in deeply to prepare herself, yet when she cranked the door open an inch and peered outside into the street, she couldn't see anyone standing there on the steps.

She got the fright of her life when suddenly a bark came from lower than she had looked, and when Liz glanced down quickly, the breath hitched in her throat when she realized it was none other than Raymond himself that had been scratching on her door.

"Raymond, _what_ are you doing here at this time of the night?"

Liz wasn't shocked that Raymond had seemed to remember the exact route to where the apartment was that she had lived in; He had followed her home just the day before, ignoring her when she had tried to tell him to go back to the park and wait for his owner Dembe to arrive.

In a tricky maneuver, she managed to slip out the door, blocking the way inside. What she was unprepared for, was Raymond jumping up on her.

She almost toppled over under his heavy weight when suddenly he sprang up, resting both front paws on her shoulders as he moved his head to lick around her chest, little whining huffing noises of excitement leaving him as his bushy tail beat back and forth. He had to have weighed over seventy pounds or more, and he very nearly bowled her over.

Lifting her hand, she stroked the space between his ears with her fingers, watching his eyes slit closed in enjoyment at her petting.

By the time she had managed to get him back down on all fours and off of her, white fur had shed off his coat onto her bathrobe.

"Why are you here at this hour, hmm?" she asked in concern. "Does your daddy Dembe let you out to wander around even at around nine-thirty at night? Does he really think that's safe?"

She still couldn't get over the terrifying dream she had of him. It just could never be true. Raymond, with how cute and fluffy he was... surely he couldn't be capable of doing such a thing like killing her boyfriend, could he?

In a move she didn't see coming, Raymond used all his weight to barricade straight past her, hurtling his way inside through the front door.

"Raymond, no," she called out in disapproval, but by the time she got back inside, the dog had vanished into the living room, his claws clicking on the wooden floorboards. "You're not allowed in the house!"

Tom was going to kill her, if he ever found out that Raymond had been let inside the house. He had made it clear he didn't like Raymond, particularly after how aggressive he had become towards him when they met for the first time several days ago.

She also found herself worried that he might attack Hudson or act in a threatening way towards their other dog, yet when she glanced into the kitchen nervously, Raymond was nowhere to be found and Hudson was still as he was, near his bowl of canned dog food.

To her horror, as she rushed into the living room, surely enough Raymond was in there.

Due to his height, his head and the half of his body reached over the coffee table easily. He was making strange slurping noise, his head bowed and his ears twitching, and as she got closer into the room, she placed her hands on her hips with a sigh of displeasure when it occurred to her just what he was getting up to.

Her wine. Raymond was drinking her wine, of all things. And, judging by the looks of him, he was enjoying it. A low growl left him as he shoved half of his muzzle into the glass, his tongue lapping up the wine like it was water from a doggy bowl.

"Bad boy, _no_ ," she said in the most menacing voice she could muster. All Raymond did was pull his nose out of the glass, licking his chops as he tilted his head at her. "That was _very bad_ of you, Raymond. You're not allowed to drink wine. Wine is allowed _for humans_ , _not_ dogs!"

It didn't deter him from drinking it, however.

Her eyes widened in outrage when Raymond shoved his muzzle back into the glass again, resuming his drinking of the wine. He lifted his head out from it to glance at her again, like he was almost tempting her to punish him.

"You're gonna get sick," she warned him sternly. "Dogs can get _very_ sick from drinking wine."

When he ignored her, padding closer to the opposite side of the coffee table to start lapping it in again, Liz had to draw the line there. She strode forward, reaching down to grab the glass off the table and hold it away from him. Fortunately for her, Raymond didn't show his unhappiness by nipping her. He simply stepped back a few paces and made a sad whining noise.

"Very naughty boy," she said, pointing her forefinger at him disapprovingly. "If you're hungry or thirsty, I will _gladly_ give you some water or a can of dog food. But drinking _my_ wine? _Very_ unacceptable of you."

She wasn't entirely sure if Raymond understood what she was telling him or not, but she hoped he could understand at least _some_ of it and her reasons why. She couldn't believe Raymond had actually liked the taste of the Pinot Noir.

Usually she thought that since alcohol could potentially kill a dog or make them sick if they ever drank it, that it would naturally act as a deterrent to them from drinking it. Apparently not, in Raymond's case.

 _Since when did dogs like wine?_

"I'm gonna be in so much trouble if Tom finds out I'm letting you in here," she explained to him. "I'll let you stay the night if you want, _only_ because Tom's away. But _if_ you and Hudson start fighting or _if_ you both start peeing on the floor as a way to mark your territory, then the deals off, okay?"

Raymond sniffed the air, and she wondered if he could smell the other dog in the house.

"You want to meet our other boy Hudson?" she asked uncertainly. "If you both get on well, he might let you share some of his dog food in his bowl?" She patted her leg, beckoning him to follow her into the kitchen.

When he did, a low growl left him as he became aware of Hudson's presence in the house.

Now Liz was worried they were going to start fighting with each other, yet Hudson only paused from eating to look at the other dog.

She watched nervously as Raymond padded closer, and the both of them sniffed each other for a few seconds. When Hudson went to sniff Raymond's behind, Raymond darted back with a growl of warning. He clearly was not comfortable with Hudson scenting him out.

Hudson was so much smaller compared to Raymond, she observed. Raymond was strong and agile, and fairly tall with a heavy grey and white coat, while Hudson was smaller-legged and his sandy colored fur was curly and short.

Much to her relief, after sniffing each other out, they seemed fine with each other. Hudson returned to eating, while Raymond stepped closer to sit beside him. He lowered his head near the ground, curiously sniffing the contents in Hudson's bowl. Then, much to Liz's shock, he turned his back on the food Hudson was greedily scarfing down. He raised his head to give Liz a long look with his luminescent greyish-green eyes.

While she had no idea what Siberian Huskies diets usually consisted of, it was obvious Raymond didn't go much on either the smell or the look of Hudson's canned food.

"You don't like the dog food Hudson is eating then?" she asked in confusion. "You don't want to share?"

She tipped out the rest of the wine into the sink, rinsing it under the tap. She had no idea what to do, about what to give Raymond to eat instead. _What did Siberian Huskies usually eat, if not dog food?_

Liz opened the fridge, glancing inside. There wasn't much to choose from that she felt was suitable for a dog. There was the Chinese take-out leftovers her and Tom hadn't managed to eat from a couple of days ago, but could Raymond eat that?

"We have leftover Chinese?" she suggested, turning to peer at the dog. He was watching her, his head cocked to the side. "You like Chinese by any chance? Can you even eat that?"

Raymond barked twice; The first time Liz thought she had actually ever heard him bark. She took that as a confirmation.

"Okay then, Raymond. You can eat the leftover Chinese. I think it should be safe?"

When she found a plastic bowl, she spilled all the contents into it. It was beef and black bean. It wasn't spicy so she figured Raymond should be fine.

When she placed the bowl on the floor, he rushed forward, sniffing it once before scarfing it down almost immediately. She wondered if Dembe hadn't been feeding him very often; He was eating so quickly, like he hadn't eaten anything all day.

He _actually_ liked Chinese food. And, _apparently_ , Pinot Noir.

"You have very refined taste for a dog, don't you?" she murmured in shock. Hearing her voice, Raymond stopped eating to look back at her, licking his chops. "I didn't know dogs could actually be into red wine and Chinese food? Hudson certainly isn't, or is it just a... a breed thing?"

He started eating again, but slower this time, like he was pacing himself.

"Or is it how Daddy Dembe feeds you? He doesn't give you the regular canned dog food?"

Since both dogs seemed happily distracted with eating, she decided to go take a shower. She walked back out of the kitchen, re-locking the front door because she couldn't remember doing so. After heading upstairs and having a shower, she dried herself off with a towel, opening the bathroom door to let the steam out.

She was startled to find Raymond sitting and waiting by the bathroom door, his head resting on his front legs. He blinked slowly several times as he glanced up at her when he heard the door open.

"I had a shower, that's what people do to get clean," she explained, when he just stared at her, seemingly in a confused way. "Dogs have baths to get clean, too. They don't have showers like us humans do. I don't think you like having baths though. Half the time, whenever Tom and I go to bath Hudson, he will run and cower behind the couch. We end up having to carry him all the way upstairs in our arms. Are you the same?"

She had to admit that it was nice. It was nice to have someone to talk to while Tom was away, even if they _were_ a dog that couldn't respond back.

She bent down to pat him while tightening the towel over herself, and he gave her fingers a lick. As she trod past him barefooted, searching in her dresser to find a pair of clean underwear, she turned and saw he had raised his head, watching her with what appeared to her as great attention.

"I'm getting changed," she explained, a bit unnerved that he was staring. She managed to step into her underwear, sliding it up while her towel was still wrapped around her. She put her bathrobe on the bed so she could get into it easily before he saw too much of her than what she comfortable with, even if he _was_ just a dog. "It's what humans do too, Raymond. They wear clothes."

She turned around so she wasn't facing him as she shuffled back into her bathrobe quickly. Once she tied the sash around her waist quickly, it was only then she looked at him again.

"You're gonna have to go downstairs and sleep with Hudson, okay?" she told him. "I don't think its such a good idea if you sleep on the bed, especially with the way your fur moults the way it does. I don't think Tom would be too happy if he found out that you-"

Before Liz could even finish, in a flash, Raymond decided to leap up on the bed. He turned in a circle, sniffing the bed-sheet, then he laid down on the side of the bed where Tom usually slept.

"Hey! You can't sleep on the bed!" Raymond just looked at her when Liz clicked her fingers, pointing at the floor. " _Off_ , Raymond! Tom's gonna find out if he notices your fur is everywhere!"

Raymond stared at her for a moment before slowly, reluctantly, standing, descending off the bed to the space on the floor that she was pointing to.

"Good boy," she said gently. She couldn't help feeling guilty when he made a little whine. "I'm sorry that I'm making you sleep on the floor, but Tom will go mad if he finds out. You're not even supposed to be in the house."

She left Raymond there as she went downstairs, double-checking that both the back and front door was locked. Then she showed Hudson to his doggy bed in the laundry, and once satisfied that he was comfortable in bed, she started turning off all the lights in the house with the exception of the living room lamp.

As she climbed the stairs to head back into the bedroom, Raymond was still where she had left him.

"Good boy," she said again quietly. She pulled back the sheets on her bed, quickly slipping out of her bathrobe. As she slid under the covers, she sighed loudly in relief at the warmth. "Goodnight, Raymond," she said as she reached over to turn off the lamp.

Barely ten seconds later, she felt the mattress depress as Raymond ended up jumping onto the bed again. It was impossible to see him in the dark, but she felt his paws trample over her as he moved to Tom's side of the bed. When he laid down, she reached out blindly with her hand to pat him.

While she was worried Tom would find out and it would start an argument, Liz couldn't deny it was sort of nice, having Raymond sleeping inside her house. She knew he was safe and that he wasn't wandering the street that way.

It was still dark when Liz heard something strange that woke her up. She sat up slowly against the headboard, still half-sleep.

The light was on in the bathroom and she thought she could hear someone going to the toilet. When she reached down to pat Raymond, her fingers found nothing but the empty sheets.

Raymond was _gone_.

"Tom?" she called out, her voice rough with sleep. "Have you returned early from your conference, babe? Is that you?"

No answer came.

The toilet flushed, she heard the tap in the sink running like someone was washing their hands, and then the light flicked off, blinding her and submerging her back into darkness. The mattress depressed and suddenly Raymond was there. He licked the inside of her arm before laying back down, too close, resting his head on her stomach. She shifted back down to rest her head on her pillow comfortably.

"Um. Did you-" She began in confusion, then it occurred to her how ridiculous what she was going to ask would have been.

 _Did Raymond the dog just use the toilet like a human, then flush it?_

How could a dog learn how to use the toilet like a human, or even know how to flush it afterwards, no less? She was struggling to understand or find any coherency in the situation due to still being half-asleep.

"Wow," Liz muttered in shock, though she could feel herself slipping deeper and deeper into sleep again, "Dembe must be like the... the dog whisperer to be able to get you to learn how to use the toilet and flush afterwards like an actual human?"

 **Hope you enjoyed this one? Thank you so much for the alerts and follows I have received, and the kind reviews. It means a lot to me! Hoping this one was okay? Hope the dream sequence was written all right too lol?**

 **I know its probably ridiculous and weird, but I hope you like it and don't mind it anyway.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Firstly, I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. I am just a huge fan.**

 **Thank you so much for being so kind! Thank you for the reviews and follows, I really appreciate it! Hope this one is all right?**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 7**_

When Liz's alarm went off at seven-thirty the next morning, she rolled over onto her side to turn it off before glancing down at Raymond on the bed, still expecting him to be there. To her confusion, he was gone. The only telling clue that told her he had actually truly been in her house last night were a few bits of shed fur from his coat.

Once she got changed into her workout gear and headed downstairs, the house was just as empty, aside from a small difference in the kitchen. A folded newspaper was sitting on the table, along with one of her pens, but the chair was neatly tucked in where the person had sat.

Had Tom come home early in the morning and, upon discovering Raymond was in the house, had he kicked him back out onto the street?

When she picked up the newspaper, looking at it curiously, she saw it was on the crossword puzzle section. It had already been filled in completely in the across column. The handwriting was by a human, but it didn't seem like Tom's handwriting.

Who had been in her house to fill in a crossword puzzle then? Where was Raymond? Had a human she didn't know about somehow broken their way into her house?

Yet, her dream from the night before seemed to return to her, though Liz wasn't completely sure why.

In it, Raymond had turned into a man. And that man was the strange one she had met at the park, who had seemed to disturbingly know so much about her. Personal and intimate things, like the story of how she had gotten her scar and what her boyfriend's name was. She had only told Raymond the dog those things, and yet, there he was, this Red man, who seemed to know all those things as well.

Could her dream have been true?

Could an animal really have the power to shift into a man? Could a man have the power to shift into a dog?

It sounded ridiculous on so many different levels and yet, Liz found herself unsure. It was impossible and crazy to wonder about such a thing, because surely it couldn't be. But could Red the man be Raymond the Siberian Husky? If she thought it over hard, she realized it could have been one way that Red seemed to know already so much about her. She had told Raymond in confidentiality, unknowing that Red the man was lurking inside Raymond.

Had she blindly given a man permission to sleep over in her apartment last night, who had magically taken the form of her trusty, new canine friend Raymond?

God, the idea that she had unnerved her. But apparently she had- if it was even true, and she wasn't thinking like a crazy person. After all, this Red man had confidently claimed he had exceptional sense of smelling and hearing capabilities; Two traits that dogs were known for.

Could Raymond the dog actually be Red the man?

She figured there was only one possible way to find out. It all depended on his reaction; He may think she is crazy at the end of it, or laugh at her for suggesting such an absurd thing. But did his opinion of her even really matter?

If worst came to worst, the man would only be turned off and he would choose to never see Liz ever again, which in all truth, sounded great to her. He wasn't the most agreeable or easiest person to talk to, and honestly, he scared the shit out of her.

What harm could it do in asking such a ludicrous thing of him?

Slipping into her trainers and tying up the laces, she locked up the house before starting her usual early morning run towards the park. She hoped he would be there, yet on the other side of the coin, she also hoped he _wouldn'_ t be there. Just thinking about what she would even say to him- and how to put it correctly into words- while running, it made her stomach curl in uneasiness.

As it turned out, the man _was_ there.

She had run the longer way around the park, entering in through the back way instead. She saw him first minute she got in, sitting in his usual place at the park bench; One arm resting on top of the back of it, his leg crossed over the other. He was wearing a black fedora and she found herself staring hardly into the back of his head as she slowed down to a brisk walk, puffing and panting for air.

Disturbing her, she saw the way his head raised a little. Then he turned to look in her direction, his nose slightly in the air, disturbing her even more. He _had_ to be Raymond the dog, he _just had_ to be. She didn't care how crazy she would sound anymore. He just reminded her of Raymond so much; Particularly with his mannerisms and the way he would tilt his head. The way his eyes seemed to match Raymond's quite a lot in color especially.

He gave her a quick smile, nodding in her direction. "Good morning again, Lizzie."

"Morning." She didn't reply until she reached the bench, and she helped herself to the spot next to him, though she was careful to keep her distance. How he somehow knew it was her approaching him from behind at the bench, it threw her off. She got out in a hurried, exhausted breath, "How did you even know that it was me that was approaching you from behind?"

"Oh, I can smell you from a mile away."

She found it difficult to talk while out of breath the way she was, so she kept silent for a moment, waiting until she began breathing normally again.

The man didn't say a word either, though out of the corner of her eye, she caught him looking at her a few times.

Once she felt ready to begin, Liz inhaled in and out through her mouth slowly. "Okay, so... I have something to ask you, and I know its gonna sound really strange."

"Strange?" When she let her eyes flit over to him nervously, she saw he was still smiling at her, his head tilted. "I _love_ strange. Frankly, these days, life is _never_ strange enough for me." His words reassured her to continue and speak what was on her mind, whether he meant for them to be or not.

Liz crossed her leg over the other, shifting on the bench so that she could see him completely. She wanted to keep him in her sights so she could see what his reaction would be.

"Are you Raymond?" she asked, deciding to get it over and done with. "Raymond the dog? My... my new canine friend that I have previously mentioned about? Are you him?"

Red glanced away from her for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. Liz couldn't read what he was thinking at all. When a moment passed and he never gave her a verbal answer, she continued, her voice going shaky in all her desperation to understand.

"It's just that you... you remind me of Raymond somehow? I've noticed that when I come here every morning, Raymond the dog is here and you aren't. Or when you _are_ here, Raymond isn't. I know I probably sound crazy- especially with what I'm daring to imply- but... I was just wondering if you _were_ Raymond?"

When he finally looked at her again, he simply smiled a closed-lipped smile. Again, he never confirmed or clarified it. It was the most infuriating thing in the world.

"You _knew_ personal things about me, things I don't remember telling _anyone_ but Raymond?" she went on, searching his face carefully. He really wasn't giving much away at all, and the way he was staring at her, his gaze so piercing and arresting... it unnerved her yet again. "I _told Raymond_ the story of how I was saved by a dog when I was a little girl, how _he_ gave me the scar I have now. I even... _spoke_ to Raymond about Tom. He even met him, and yet, _you_ knew his name and I'm pretty damn sure that I never told you _any_ of that?"

She really wished he would say something, _anything_ , to ease her mind. Yet, the bastard did nothing but stare at her.

"Tell me," she demanded urgently. "Tell me that I'm not crazy for thinking like this?"

A throaty laugh escaped him.

"I can _assure_ you that you are not crazy, Lizzie. This world, this... _life,_ it's an extremely complex place."

Was that his way of confirming that he was, in fact, Raymond? That he could somehow mysteriously transform into a Siberian Husky? Liz wasn't sure.

"So are you saying that you _are_ Raymond? That I'm right in what I'm asking?"

"I'm afraid I cannot give you a definitive answer on that." She parted her lips in irritation, about to speak, only he interrupted her, "But what I _can_ tell you, is that the world in which you think you live in is far more than what you know. There are certain... things that are happening in this world that not even you yourself can possibly begin to imagine."

His words suddenly came back to her from their last meeting. She still didn't understand what he had been trying to tell her. "You said when we last talked something about a first time? That I'm very nearly thirty and that something will happen to me? _What_ did you mean by that?"

When he turned to look at her again, she saw the way his mouth gave off a slight twitch. "Do you really think it is possible for you to have a normal life, Lizzie?" His eyes moved back and forth between hers, his gaze unsettling. Again, he was speaking as if he knew something she didn't, and Liz hated that. "Do you _really think_ you can carry on and have a normal life with Tom?"

Liz ignored him with some determination. She really loathed the way he bought her boyfriend into the conversation with apparent ease. " _Why_ can't I have a normal life? Are you saying somehow that it... it's impossible? _How_ can you know that?"

"May I have a good look at it?" She stared at him in confusion, unsure of what he was talking about. But then it all made sense when he dipped his chin, motioning to her hand. "The bite on your wrist? May I have a good look at it?"

Liz considered for a moment. She couldn't see why not. She shoved her palm forward, showing her scar to him. "Why do you need to look at it? _What_ does it mean for me?"

Before she could even gather her thoughts or attempt to yank her arm free, he lifted his hand, closing his fingers over her arm. She didn't exactly enjoy a stranger touching her or getting grabby. He guided her wrist up higher towards his face, perhaps so that he could see it better; she wasn't sure. She felt his thumb stroke the inner skin on her wrist a few times before he released her at last.

"The... the dog that saved you the night of the fire, it would seem that they have... infected you."

" _Infected_ me?" she hissed back doubtfully. "Infected me with _what_?

When she glanced up at his face, she saw that he wasn't looking her way this time. He was looking at something far-off into the distance across from the park. She thought he looked almost guilty and regretful somehow, though she didn't know what that was all about.

"No, it couldn't have." She couldn't say she believed him for a second. "I went to the hospital where they stitched it up. They also took some of my blood, ran pathology tests before giving me immunizations. The results from the blood-work came back clean? They couldn't identify any transmitted pathogens in my bloodstream so... what you're saying, about the dog infecting me, you're _completely_ wrong."

"The virus I'm talking about, Lizzie, it is... _far too_ advanced for any modern science to detect. No countless number of tests could ever detect it because, as far as the common world knows, no such virus currently exists."

"And so _what_ are you saying? That I'm... infected with some disease that no one _even_ knows about? That there's... no cure for whatever infection you think I have?"

"That is _precisely_ what I am trying to tell you." Red nodded once.

"But don't you think I would know if I was sick with some virus? That I would feel... lethargic or ill? I'm twenty-nine, almost thirty, and all I have to deal with, has been getting the flu every eight or nine months or so. I haven't felt sick at all? I haven't had any... symptoms to make me think an infection was within me in the first place, so _how can you_ possibly say that?"

"We're all symptomless carriers, Lizzie. It is how this thing works. Not only is it completely untraceable through scientific means or pathology tests, it is also silent. Silent and symptomless. Most are _not even aware_ they have been infected until the change happens."

She was struggling not to laugh out loud at what he was telling her. She couldn't believe him, not for a second. "Right so... just say I went home to Tom tonight and bit him, would _he_ be infected with this mysterious virus you claim I have as well?"

She wasn't sure if he could tell she was making fun of what he was telling her, but when he focused on her again, he did not look amused in the slightest. "No, no matter who you bite or however many times in which you do so, _you_ yourself _can never_ transmit the virus onto another person."

"Oh? And why can't I? You're telling me that this dog that saved me as a little girl somehow infected me with a mysterious virus by saliva contact when he accidentally bit me in order to get me away from the fire. If I have the virus like you say I do, _what_ stops me from being able to infect others?"

"Because, Lizzie, it is very... gender-specific." He started using his hands as he spoke, and Liz could see that he was really getting into explaining the mechanics of why. He actually believed this load of crock. "The dog that transmitted the infection onto you was a male, therefore you are... unfortunately now what he is."

"Okay, so... if I was _a male_ , I could infect anyone I bite?"

" Exactly, but... usually, _one_ female is more than enough. It's solely about companionship and-"

"- You realize this is bullshit, right?" She slipped up, laughing incredulously. "Everything you are saying? There is no such thing as a-"

"-I don't expect you to understand what I am telling you. I certainly don't expect you to believe me, but what I _can_ do, is try to help guide you and assist you to ensure it goes smoothly when the time comes."

"I'm _not_ sick or infected with _anything_ ," she said defensively, standing up from the bench. She had heard more than enough for one morning. "Far as I am concerned, I am _healthy_ as a horse! There is _nothing wrong_ with me and, what you're telling me, it isn't true! It's _insanity_ , that's what this is!"

"I understand how difficult this may be for you to believe. But, perhaps, once the... change occurs, you may start to see things differently."

She felt overwhelmed with all this information, with all these things that he was telling her. It didn't make sense at all. He hadn't even confirmed if he was Raymond the dog, like she had begun to suspect. He was just giving her all these cryptic answers and comments.

What made it worse, was that when she glanced down at his face, she could see he believed what he was telling her one hundred percent. He _actually felt_ what he was saying was true.

Because she didn't know what more to say or how to handle what he was telling her, she did the one thing she could only think of doing. She turned, and left him sitting there, abruptly ending their conversation.

 **Hope this one was okay? :P Thank you so much for the alerts I have received, as well as the reviews!**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Thank you so much for being so kind. Hope you enjoy this one. I know this story is weird lol. :-)_**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eight**_

Liz sat in the living room, trying to distract herself from the mind-numbing silence in the house by watching a movie on TV.

She found she couldn't really concentrate; What happened this morning at the park with the man, Red, wouldn't seem to leave her mind. It had been so... strange, what he was telling her. And yet, he appeared as if he truly believed what he was saying to her.

She sighed loudly, turning her hand over to stare down at the scar on her wrist, the bite. Apparently, according to him, the dog that had unintentionally bit her as a little girl while saving her from the fire at her childhood home had infected her with some virus, one completely undetectable by modern science. She couldn't say she believed what he had told her one bit, because it simply did not make sense.

She didn't feel sick or diseased in anyway. She felt completely normal and healthy. So why would this man tell her that?

Insanity, was the only plausible reason she could come up with. The man had to be insane. And what was he going on about, when he mentioned about companionship and a change that was supposedly bound to happen to her? The man definitely had to be mentally ill to actually believe such a thing.

Yet Liz wasn't thinking in any normal, sane way herself, was she? She was beginning to suspect that Red the man was Raymond, the dog. Didn't that make _her_ the mentally ill one for thinking that way?

Tearing through her irrational thoughts, her phone started buzzing on the coffee table. She leaned over to pick it up, glancing down at caller ID. Tom. Tom was calling her. He was supposed to be home tonight after his weekend annual teacher conference yet, here it was, already nine-thirty in the evening and he still hadn't shown, leaving Liz all alone in the house.

She flipped her cell open, holding the phone up to her ear. "Hey," she greeted.

"Hey, babe. How are things going?"

She settled back into the couch cushions, making herself comfortable. Just the mere sound of her boyfriend's voice on the line made her heart thump in her chest. "It's awfully... quiet in the house," she remarked with a smile. "And it's all ready past nine. I thought you were coming home tonight and that the conference would be finished by now?"

"Oh, yeah. About that..." He paused for a moment, and Liz thought she heard a woman laughing in the background. "There has actually been a change of plans. I won't be home until tomorrow night now." She heard the woman talking in the background loudly.

"You have company?"

"Yeah, just another teacher. We decided to get dinner. I thought there was no point in driving home now because it'd be too late when I got in. I'm staying at the hotel for another night."

"Okay." Liz wasn't sure how she felt about that. A part of her felt worried and slightly insecure, despite the fact that there really was no true reason for her to feel that way. She had no reason to not trust Tom to behave himself and, besides, it wasn't unusual for partners to have friends or colleagues of the opposite sex, was it? "Okay, well, have fun. Enjoy your dinner." She couldn't help the disappointment that showed in her tone.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Tom asked her cautiously. "Look, if its too much, then I guess I _can_ just come home early and-"

"-No, don't," Liz cut through him quickly. "It's fine. Really. I'm just being silly."

"Come over here," she thought she heard the woman say in the background in an attractive, sultry voice. "It's your turn to buy me a drink, remember?"

"Well, I gotta go, babe." It was obvious Tom hadn't expected her to hear what was going on in the background, but Liz could hear the woman clear as day. "See you tomorrow night when I get home."

"Okay. Bye." Liz hung up on him, throwing her phone back down onto the coffee table carelessly. She rested both feet on the coffee table, grabbing a cushion to crush it into her chest, hugging it. Why did she feel so profoundly lonely all of a sudden?

* * *

The next morning, she got Hudson fed and let him outside the front yard to do his business, then once he was safely back inside the house, she went upstairs to get changed into her workout gear.

She still felt in a funny mood over Tom's decision to stay back in Boston for one more night, but hopefully a bit of vigorous exercise would bring her out of that. She had heard the woman on the other line and obviously they were doing more than just having a harmless little meal to eat for dinner together. But she had to remind herself that she had no true reason not to trust Tom, that she was being ridiculous and unfair to him.

For all she knew, the woman could just be a friendly colleague, someone Tom had gotten on really well with. It didn't mean there was a likelihood that he would be unfaithful and cheat. And, if she had to be honest, Tom didn't seem like the cheating type.

He could be friendly and a bit too generous with his time, to the point where people tended to take advantage of that. The woman had probably talked him into having dinner and a few drinks of alcohol with her, and due to his good nature, he had felt swayed to agree and do that.

It was hotter this morning and by the time she ran briskly to the park, she was sweating profusely. She paused to catch her breath, bending slightly to swipe her slick palms down the front of her track pants. She heard a barking noise and when she glanced up in the direction of it, she felt all worries strangely leave her mind when she saw that Raymond was in the park this morning, running towards her.

She felt all her present concerns over Tom immediately leave her system when Raymond reached her, his ears twitching as he panted with his mouth slightly agape.

It was then she saw what he held between his teeth in his mouth.

For a second, she assumed it was another bagel or another tasty morning treat for her for breakfast. Yet when she crouched down and he dropped the thing he was holding out of his mouth and into her lap, she discovered it was what seemed to be an envelope. She grabbed it, holding it curiously while patting Raymond affectionately on the head with her other hand, laughing breathlessly when he licked her fingers.

"What's this envelope?" she asked once Raymond sat beside her. "Is this for me?"

She looked at Raymond, catching his almond-shaped greyish-green eyes. He never said anything, of course. But he stood and wiggled his way closer, sitting again so that his luxurious coat brushed along her arm every which way she moved.

She pried the envelope open with her thumb, breaking the seal. Photos, she realized, when she pulled out the contents. There were a set of photos in an envelope.

Liz's heart seemed to stop in her chest when she inspected the first one. Tom. It was a photo of Tom, though it appeared he hadn't known someone was taking pictures of him. He was entering a building, his work suitcase in his hand. Next picture showed a zoomed-in shot of him sitting in what looked like to be a restaurant, a woman with him.

The blood drained out of her face when Liz looked at the last shot; The woman was there in the next photo also, but they were embracing, looking close as they walked together out of the restaurant. Her arms were slung around Tom, his face near hers. It appeared almost as though they were kissing. She swallowed against a sudden dry lump that had formed in her throat, glancing at Raymond in confusion from where he was still sitting beside her.

"How did you get these?" she asked shakily, turning one of the photos over to see what date and time they were taken. "These were taken last night? Tom was in Boston for his teaching conference?"

Her first instinct told her to ignore it. Denial was always less painful than having to acknowledge the truth. No, this couldn't possibly be true. Tom would never cheat on her. Someone was tricking her, trying to make her believe otherwise, trying to plant a seed of doubt and betrayal into her mind. Yet the photos were there, and they were a real piece of crucial evidence. Could someone really possibly stage shots like that, particularly the last one?

God, and she had felt something was bound to happen last night. There was a gut feeling there that had told her, almost intrinsically, that something was going to happen. That Tom was going to cheat.

The pain from her boyfriend's betrayal was so excruciating, it almost felt crippling, as though Liz couldn't move up from the grass. As if somehow he could sense her emotions, a humans, Raymond stood; one paw pressing down on her left thigh, his claws cutting in painfully as he moved, his snout touching the shell of her ear as he gave her a sniff. He began licking her, tentatively, around her earlobe, as if he could somehow sense she was in need of comfort.

"How did you know to give me these?" she asked desperately, winding an arm around the front of his strong body, holding him pressed to her side. "Did someone give you these to give to me? Your owner Dembe?"

It came to her again; that niggling, foolish suspicion that Raymond the dog was Red the man.

"Are you _him_?" she asked, slipping a hand over the side of his face, trying to get him to remain still and stop licking her, wanting his luminescent eyes to meet hers so that she could properly understand. "Are _you_ that _man_?" She sounded so crazy but in that moment she couldn't actually bring herself to care. "Are you Red?"

Self-awareness slowly settled in, and she pushed him away gently, forcing herself to stand. She felt so hurt over what she had seen due to the pictures of Tom with the woman. But, most of all, she felt so ashamed of her behavior for asking a dog if he was a human, that he could ever be one.

"Thank you for giving me these," she whispered appreciatively, placing the photos back into the envelope. She folded it carefully, shoving it into the pocket of her grey hoodie jacket. "It hurts but it was something I needed to know." She felt like she wanted to cry; She could feel it in the way her jaw was set, the way her eyes started blurring with tears.

Not wanting to be one of those women that cried in public, she turned away from the dog, desiring nothing more than to head straight back home so she could grieve in private and, hopefully, sort out what she was going to do as far as her and Tom were concerned.

It happened so fast- one minute she was striding away, a sob escaping from the back of her throat, Raymond brushing up against the side of her leg, alerting her that he was following her, walking alongside her.

Then, in the next, she felt an arm brush against her; Warm, human skin and wiry light hair from someone's forearm at close contact. She turned to look, alarmed, and Raymond was nowhere to be seen walking next to her. No, in his place instead it seemed, was the man Red.

Liz was very nearly bowled over sideways when she tripped against one of his shoes, and the only reason she did not fall was when he caught her tightly with a hand by the forearm, holding her up and keeping her steady, one arm curling around her as he held her almost tight against him.

How he came to be by her side so fast, it was a mystery. She looked around, trying to find Raymond frantically on the grass, yet he had seemed to have vanished bizarrely out of thin air.

"Forgive me," Red said in concern, his throaty, baritone voice causing her to give up on her search for her Siberian husky friend to really take notice of the man who was still holding her upright with an arm around her. "Are you all right?"

He was invading her personal space bubble, and she didn't like it one bit, regardless of how thankful she felt that he had stopped her from crashing down to the ground. But he was the one that had made her almost trip in the first place, with the way he practically materialized next to her out of thin air.

"You okay?" he asked again, when she couldn't seem to find her voice. His eyes searched around her face, that unease she felt around him settling down on her shoulders again.

She had to clear her throat before managing to say angrily, "Excuse me but you're kind of invading my personal space." When he untangled his arm from around her slowly, she felt relief overtake her as she stood back, placing a more comfortable distance between herself and him with their bodies. She still couldn't believe how fast he had appeared next to her.

"I'm sorry about Tom," he said, and just like that, Liz immediately realized why she didn't feel comfortable around the man very much.

It only served to bring a fresh bout of pain up to the surface. She shivered, feeling cold all of a sudden, and she brought her arms up to wrap them around her stomach. She knew he was only trying to console her, but it pissed her off.

"Yeah, well. While I appreciate your concern, its really none of your business, is it?" she spat out, irritation coating her tone. _Who did this man think he was? And why couldn't he just leave her the hell alone?_ "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I really wish you would just leave me alone."

She stepped closer towards him over the grass, ignoring the discomfort she felt at being so close, looking him over. He obviously had no concept of personal space; He did not back down or move away at her sudden imposing closeness. He simply stared back at her, his head angled slightly to the side.

"You know what you are to me?" she muttered under her breath, lowering her voice. She knew she was being rude, but she didn't care. This man, whoever he was, had to _stop_ this. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity in them disturbing. "You're some _sick_ , deluded man who insists on bothering me. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but you're _obviously_ some type of stalker obsessed with me."

She spat the words out with spite, though she couldn't tell whether her words were having any proper effect on him or not. His face was impassive with no emotion breaking through from under the surface.

"Prattling on about these little twisted... _fantasies_ or ideas of yours, about how I'm infected with some stupid virus because a dog accidentally bit me when I was a little girl? That I'm going _to change_?"

Finally, she seemed to rouse some form of emotion out of him. She saw the way his jaw tightened then loosened, the corner of his mouth twitching. "As I said before, Lizzie, I don't expect you to understand nor do I certainly expect you to believe me. I suppose the proof is in the pudding."

 _Jesus, he just didn't get it, did he?_ "My God," she huffed out under her breath, incredulous. "You know what you sound like? You sound exactly like one of those crazy people that believe in the apocalypse... shutting themselves off in their bunkers thinking they're preparing for it, when _really_ , they're just _deluded_ and insane."

Usually she would never be so rude to a stranger, yet the photos with Tom had pushed her beyond breaking point. It was bound to happen eventually.

"The point is, I don't like you," she went on, infuriated. She thought she caught a fleeting, brief emotion glisten in his eyes; Hurt maybe? But it was quickly replaced with a closed-lipped smile and a nod that made her feel like actually hitting him. "I don't want you hanging around me anymore, staging your little meetings with me in the park. Your stalking of me ends _right_ now. _Don't_ come anywhere near me, _don't_ talk to me, don't say _anything_ to me. _Certainly_ not about your stupid beliefs about how I'm infected."

"What are you going to do about your issue with Tom, Lizzie?" He asked, diverting the topic onto something completely unrelated, stunning her. She couldn't believe the gall he had. Was he not hearing her? Was she not making any sense?

"What I'm going to do with my issues with my boyfriend has _absolutely nothing_ to do with you."

He glanced away from her for a moment, tilting his head, as if considering. When he met her gaze again, Liz felt a fresh new wave of unease billow through her. "Well, I beg to differ. It has _everything_ to do with me."

" _Oh_? And how do you figure that?"

Red pursed his lips, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Because certain things you can never go back from," he said thoughtfully, seeming to pick his words with care. "Now you may think that you don't like me, and you don't have to. That doesn't truly matter. But whether you like it or not, certain things are... unchangeable. The night of the fire, when that... dog bit you, whether you want to believe it or not, your fate was sealed, Lizzie. It is something that you can... _never_ go back from."

"My fate was sealed? What? That I'm changing? That I'm infected?"

"He's coming for you. And who knows? He may even be closer to you than you realize." His voice dropped to a lower, gravelly level, and it sounded like a threat. "And whether you like it or not, he _will_ have you."

There he was again, confusing her by saying cryptic things that she didn't understand.

"Just leave me alone," she said in finality, ending their conversation. It seemed to be heading nowhere and obviously he wasn't going to listen to her. "You're even more insane than I initially thought you were, sprouting your theories of nonsense."

"For the sake of preserving Tom's life and excusing him from having to endure tremendous pain and anguish, I do suggest that you consider ending things with him," he got out urgently, like his say was important to her when realistically, it was none of his business. It angered her most of all. She needed to get away from him before she did something.

Turning her back on him, she rushed away from him, walking through the entrance of the park. When she passed through it, she paused for a moment to glance back at him to make sure he wasn't following. He wasn't, at least. But he was staring after her, rather despondently, and the fact that he was, it was frightening most of all.

 **Hope you enjoyed this one? Is Red still a little creepy? Basically, what happens, when a male dog bites a female in this universe that I'm writing about, they are eventually to become mates for life/until one partner dies. Not only that, but Liz will eventually change into dog form herself LOL. This is probably way too crazy, but hopefully you still like it despite that?**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Firstly I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. Just a fan, particularly a shipper of Lizzington.**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and encouragement! Hope you enjoy this one, though I know this story is probably way beyond weird..**_

 _ **Chapter Nine**_

The male professor in her psychology class was talking, explaining about the latest assignment they had to complete by the end of next week, though Liz was finding it difficult to pay attention. She never heard him, not really. He might as well have just been an irritating voice in the background.

She was stuck on Tom, on the pictures Raymond had given her this morning.

Even although the evidence was there, she found it difficult to accept it. Her stomach was in a tight, constant knot of nerves and dread for the minute class ended in the afternoon and she had to get home. She was dreading seeing him. She knew what would have to happen; Things had to end, between her and Tom. It was going to be incredibly difficult, as she loved him. He was the first guy she had ever thought she truly loved. Yet, she also knew where her morals and beliefs stood.

Though they hadn't properly discussed it during their one year relationship, kissing was something she equated with cheating. He had kissed another woman and there could be no going back from that. He had cheated and broken her trust.

She would have to end things with Tom tonight, but that was only one part of the problem. The other part was working out living arrangements; Would Tom keep the apartment and expect Liz to leave? Or would Tom leave, letting Liz keep all of the furniture they had brought equally? And what about their dog, Hudson? Would Tom want him or would he be fine with her keeping him?

Taking in a deep breath, she tried to focus on the lecturer standing at the front of the class near the blackboard, trying to properly take in his words. She felt a sudden, distracting dull ache in her wrist and as she pulled both hands beneath her desk, she attempted to soothe in by pulling up her sleeve, rubbing around the spot with her fingers absently.

By the time class had officially ended for another day and everyone stood to collect their belongings and tuck in their chairs while the teacher reminded them of their assignments, the ache still hadn't left, originating from her hand, up towards her forearm.

She pushed her way through the crowd, headings to female restrooms. Once she got inside, she slipped the strap of her back off her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground while she used both hands.

She folded up her sleeve carefully, switching on the cold water on the faucet in the sink as she licked her suddenly dry lips. Then she held her arm under it as much as she could, the chilly temperature giving her temporary relief from the dull ache in her bones.

It hadn't been something that had happened to her; Her arm aching unbearably. Yet when she turned her wrist inwards, looking down at her skin, she saw it was the arm that her scar was on.

Switching off the tap, she lifted her arm, beads of water rolling down towards the sleeve of her jumper, dampening it as she inspected the bite on her wrist curiously. Oddly enough, it looked different, as though during class the appearance of it had altered somehow. How that was possible, Liz had no idea. The appearance of it, the redness, usually it never bothered her.

Maybe Red _was_ right? Maybe something _was_ happening to her after all? Maybe she was infected?

* * *

Liz turned on the jug, making herself a cup of coffee while she waited for Tom to arrive home.

She still didn't know how she was going to say what she needed to say without getting too emotional, but she laid the crinkled envelope with the incriminating pictures on the kitchen table so that he would see them the instance he got in. Hopefully the pictures would tell Tom everything he needed to know.

By the time she heard the front door unlock as Tom got in, Liz had been sitting at the kitchen table quietly with her hands gripping her mug of steaming coffee for over fifteen minutes. She tensed automatically, a strange feeling rising in her stomach, her heart racing.

Tom seemed blissfully ignorant as he came inside the kitchen while sitting his briefcase down onto the floor. "Hey, babe," he said, grinning at her widely. "I made it home tonight."

Liz felt her stomach clench when he placed one hand on her shoulder, about to bend down to kiss her hello on the lips. Instinctively and without thought, she leaned back before he even got the chance to brush his lips against hers. There was an awkward moment where Tom just stared at her through the lenses of his heavy black rimmed glasses, his smile faltering. She found herself deeply relieved when he stood, straightening up slowly.

"Had a bad day, huh?" he said, his eyes fluttering towards the envelope still sitting on the kitchen table untouched. "Is this a letter for me?"

Before Liz could get a word out, he had stretched out a hand to already take the envelope and by then it was far too late. He pulled it open, his hand delving inside it to take the set of photographs out. Deciding it would be too much to make herself look at him, Liz deliberately kept her eyes lowered to the light brown liquid in her cup, her muscles tense.

"What's this?" he asked after a long moment of daunting silence. He sounded nothing but confused, yet at the same time, Liz had noticed how tremulous his voice had gotten, how lower in pitch it was. " _Why_ do you have these pictures, Liz? What is this?"

"I don't know, Tom." It astounded Liz how calm she sounded, when inside, she felt anything but. Her hands weren't so steady though; As she raised the mug towards her lips to take in a quick sip, she found that her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she flexed them over the porcelain. "Why don't _you_ tell me? _What_ is this?"

"That's Jolene Parker. Miss Parker. She's a teacher's aid. She's the one I went out to dinner with last night." He wasn't denying it, at least. She heard the _thunk_ against the paper of one of the photographs as Tom flicked it with his fingertip. " _Why_ do you have these, Liz? Were you- _what_? You had someone follow me to take these? You had someone _spying_ on me?"

"Not... exactly. A friend gave them to me. They thought I should see them."

Her composure was quickly leaving her, bit by bit, when Tom grabbed the kitchen chair next to her, yanking it open. The legs creaked against the floorboards as he sat, his knees touching hers. She didn't want him anywhere near her. She didn't want him touching her, not even his knees. It made her feel ill.

"And _clearly_ you two did more than just have a nice and harmless dinner together after the conference, didn't you, Tom?" Even to Liz's ears, she sounded funny. She reminded herself of a dog, strangely enough. The words came out a low, guttural growl between clenched teeth. "The pictures have really shown me everything I need to know."

She heard Tom start to breathe heavily. When he reached out, trying to grab her hand to hold onto it, Liz automatically flung it away, pushing herself back from the table with her legs. He couldn't touch her, not now.

"What else happened?" she demanded, finally finding the courage she needed to look at him. His eyes were wide, unreleased anger blaring in them. "Did you two go to your hotel room together afterwards? Judging by the pictures and how cozy you two looked leaving the restaurant together, I'd say that's _pretty damn_ likely."

"For the record, Liz, _she_ came _onto me_ , all right?" Tom's voice had risen to a piercing level, his face trembling, his cheeks red. "I don't even know how it happened. One minute, we were eating together in the restaurant, and then things got quickly personal."

A sickened feeling sliced through Liz as she forced herself to listen to his half-assed explanation, though a part of her wanted to do nothing more than to retreat, to act like a child and cover her ears as a way to not hear it, even.

"I was talking about _you_ , Liz, about... _how much_ I love you, about how much we wanna start a family eventually and get married." His voice was a desperate, husky rumble as he tried to explain. "Then when we got out of the restaurant, she was getting all grabby with me! I mean, _what the hell_ was I gonna do? What _could_ I do?"

"How about explaining to her that you're in a committed relationship and that you're leaving back to your hotel room alone, Tom?" she suggested, trying to keep her voice even. She almost broke down when Tom sighed loudly, covering his face in his hands. "And yet, you didn't, did you? You didn't because, no matter how much you claim to supposedly love me, there was a part of you that wanted her? That wanted this... _Jolene Parker_ woman?"

He took one of the pictures off the table again, glancing at it carefully. "I _still don't_ understand why you were having some person stalking me and spying on me to see what I was doing, Liz?" Jesus. It was as if that was all he cared about; not that he had actually hurt her by betraying her. "Don't you think that's a little... excessive?" He flung the picture back onto the table, his eyes narrowing at her with rage. "I think that tells me everything that I need to know, that you don't trust me."

"You're right, Tom," she agreed, near hysterics. "I _don't_ trust you. And after a friend gave me those pictures of you, then... yeah, I'd say I have a good reason not to, don't I?"

She forced herself to stand, moving away so that her back was facing him. Saying it to his face would have been too hard and just by looking at him, it would have easily swayed her against it if she had to endure witnessing his reaction to it. Plus, she was already struggling not to come apart as it was.

"I want you out of the apartment, Tom," she said with effort. "You can take Hudson with you or I can keep him, I don't care. Whatever is best."

"So _what_? What are you saying here, Liz?"

"I'm saying that we're done here." She knew she sounded cold and heartless, but it was either that or letting him see how upset she was. "I know we hadn't properly established our limits and what we considered cheating, but kissing another woman... it's cheating to me. You broke my trust, Tom."

She heard the legs of the chair scrape against the floor from behind her, warning her that he was standing. His footsteps came nearer and, as she saw his hand move towards her from out of the corner of her eye, something within her snapped and broke. Liz had a sudden, nervous fear that he was about to attack her or do... _something_. In a way of defending herself, she whipped her head down, catching a few of his fingers between her teeth, biting down hard on narrow, sinewy bone.

"What the hell, Liz?" Tom cried out in hurt, and it was only then that she loosened her teeth from around him, letting his fingers go.

Shock permeated through her as she turned to glance at him desperately, apologetically. Tears formed in her eyes as she watched him helplessly. She had no idea what had just happened or why she had decided to bite him, no less. It had just happened.

Tom's face was pinched in pain as he shook his hand, inspecting it.

"God, Tom. I... I'm _so_ sorry, I didn't-" She began, but he didn't look at her.

He cursed under his breath again heatedly and it was then she realized how much damage she had done. Droplets of dark red blood started rolling down his hand and when Liz tongued around her teeth, she tasted the metallic flavor of Tom's blood.

"Tom, I don't know what's happening to-" she began again desperately, stepping towards him, hands raised to comfort him.

He dodged her hands, walking out of the kitchen briskly, trails of blood following him.

Guilt pummeled through Liz in a terribly heavy way and to make matters worse, a searing burning pain shot through her arm. She gave her hand a sharp shake to try and ease it, but when she glanced down at her wrist again, she couldn't help noticing it.

It was impossible, but in a short amount of time, the old bite scar had seemed to grow even worse. Along with the aching and the hot throbbing sensations, it looked as if the scar was fresh again, as if it had only just happened to her this morning rather than when she had been a little girl. The teeth marks, usually faded, were now swollen and lifted from her skin in angry, red welts.

Something was happening to her. She had actually gone and bitten Tom, like some rabid, feral dog. Whatever was happening to her, it couldn't have meant anything good.

* * *

She saw him waiting for her in the park. No, not waiting _for her_ , as that was probably no doubt a bit presumptuous of her. All Liz knew, was that it felt like he was.

She noticed first thing that he was wearing a light beige suit and a white fedora, his head bent low as he read the days addition of the newspaper; the vest and trousers similar to the one she had seen him wear in that peculiar dream she had, where Raymond the dog had turned into him.

Even now, that dream was still so baffling and frightening to her.

When she slipped onto the bench beside him, she caught him lift his head to glance into her direction, though he didn't say anything. She heard the paper give out a rustling noise as he shook it once before starting to fold it up carefully. Seeing as she didn't know what to say, Liz kept quiet also, not daring to break the silence either, while remembering in the back of her mind that she had been embarrassingly rude to him during their previous encounter which had to have been about roughly two days ago.

She thought it mainly had something to do with the photos of Tom, rather than the kooky man sitting beside her himself; Finding out Tom had cheated on her, seeing the photos of him with another woman, it had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"You've been quiet, Lizzie. I haven't seen you in over two days," he said, finally breaking the silence at last. The fact that he had been counting down the days, it disturbed her. Then again, was there anything about this man that didn't easily disturb her?

"I didn't feel like going for my usual runs in the park," she explained quietly, zipping up her jacket self-consciously when she felt the weight of his stare. "I lost my motivation for a bit."

She waited tensely for him to ask her about it, only he didn't. She was uncertain on whether to tell him her reasons why, that it was due to grieving for the end of her relationship with her boyfriend, not that it was any of his business. But talking about it to at least _someone_ would help get it off her chest, even if it meant talking to a meddlesome, annoying man like him.

"I ended things with Tom."

She flipped her hand around, glancing down at the old, healed teeth marks on her wrist, mainly because the idea of looking at him while she admitted to it seemed intolerable. It hadn't seemed to get any better, her old bite wound. The past few days it still had felt inflamed and sore.

"We're done. I told him I couldn't be with him. He left the apartment and he took our dog with him."

She knew it was exactly what he was waiting to hear, and when she mustered enough courage to glance in his direction, she thought he almost seemed silently pleased as he peered at something far off into the distance.

It seemed to take him a few minutes to find his voice. "Though it may seem callous of me to say so, you did good, Lizzie." It was as if he believed she would feel better with him praising her. "Trying to sustain a marriage or a relationship during such a crucial time, it's... next to impossible."

She wasn't entirely sure what 'crucial time' he was speaking of, but she clenched her teeth, refraining from asking anything. He hardly ever gave her a proper explanation lately when she had sought one anyway.

"I think the main thing was that he betrayed me. In those photos, how he kissed that woman. Commitment and loyalty is a big thing for me." She drew in a deep breath, shaking her head. "Even if I _could_ have forgiven him, things would never have been able to be the same. I wouldn't be able to look past it. All I would be able to see is her kissing him, and _him_ kissing her. It just never would have worked anymore."

Again, he didn't respond as she looked his way again. She watched as his eyes moved at something, and when she followed the direction of them, she saw a man walking past with his dog on a leash.

Just like that, she remembered biting Tom's fingers again; guilt and shame flooding through her. She had been wondering excessively for the past two days on what it all meant, and just why on earth she had done that to him.

"Something's happening to me," she managed in a horrifyingly nervous and vulnerable voice, glancing down at her wrist again. She was ashamed of how terrified she sounded, how lost. "When Tom and I were arguing and I told him we were finished, I... I bit him."

She threw a look his way again. Finally, he shifted slightly on the bench to meet her gaze, his eyebrows lifting, as if in surprise.

"I _actually_ bit him. I don't know what happened exactly or just... why I did it. I just snapped out of nowhere and it... it happened." She inhaled sharply through her teeth, peering down at her wrist again. "And then, there's _this_." She lifted her arm in the air a fraction, motioning to it. "For some reason, it's been aching a lot lately. It was healed over completely before, yet _now_... it's like its opened up again and I don't know why."

She saw Red glance away from her quickly, as if he felt that looking at her was suddenly unbearable. She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he nodded once. "So it's beginning," he simply said in acknowledgement, his voice grave.

"Beginning? _What's_ beginning? What's going on with me?"

"Have you been feeling hungrier than usual lately?" he asked, ignoring her. He crossed a leg over the other, leaning slowly towards her as he turned his head back to her. "Have you been experiencing pesky hunger pangs that cease to subside?"

Liz had to think it over carefully for a second. "Yes," she admitted hesitantly, her chest lifting. "Lately, my appetite has been erratic. I've been... eating a lot more than usual."

"And nothing seems to ever satiate it?" It was as if he knew exactly what she was going through. "No matter how much you eat, the... feeling never dissipates? The hunger?"

"Yeah, that's right."

He nodded again, his expression contemplative. "Then it _is_ beginning. Is there anywhere you need to be today?" His eyes moved back and forth between hers intensely as he gave her a tight-lipped, small smile.

"Class," she admitted cautiously. She found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his lips for some bizarre reason. "I have psychology class in two hours. Why?"

"You are going to need to call them, Lizzie." He sounded so sure, so confident, again like he knew something she didn't. "Something tells me you won't be able to make it to your class today. And even if you could, I daresay you wouldn't want to."

Red stood abruptly, straightening out his vest while he disposed of the newspaper into the bin next to them. Liz's eyes were still on him questioningly when he moved in front of where she was sitting, holding out an arm to her in offer, his shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows.

As Liz brought herself to stand up slowly from the bench, it occurred to her how strange she felt. She had felt fine before sitting next to him, but now, she felt weak, particularly in her joints.

Sweat broke out under her jacket as a hot flush suddenly sprung up on her and as she stepped forward to take his arm, her legs gave out frighteningly without warning. The last thing she noticed was Red catching her with two strong arms around her waist, supporting her up, before her vision went black.

* * *

When Liz awoke and came to, she heard two voices around her.

Unfamiliar voices that she didn't recognize. Or so she thought, at first. One, she did end up recognizing, however, and that voice belonged to Red. She was surrounded by people; Red. A woman whose voice she did not recognize. Their voices were low, muffled.

"Everything is ready and in order, Dearie," the woman said. "Shouldn't take too long now." The woman sounded older, about in her mid-sixties or seventies by her voice alone.

"Thank you, Kate. If there is someone I can rely on above all else, I know its always you." Red's affectionate, throaty rumbling voice, as if he was speaking from in the lower depths of his chest.

When Liz tried to open her eyes, at first, it took tremendous effort. Her lids wouldn't seem to open easily. The lids felt hot and swollen. Her throat was aching, as if she was burning up with a rapid throat infection. It stung when she had to swallow compulsively. In fact, there wasn't a place on her that didn't seem to be aching right now. Her cranium was pounding furiously. Even her teeth ached.

Managing to open her eyes, she noticed the room swayed and blurred violently. Something was trickling down her cheeks, obstructing her vision as it coated her eyelids, and she didn't know what that something was, until she blinked it away, out of her eyes. She was crying and hadn't even realized it.

As the room gradually came into focus, she lifted her head, wincing against the heaviness, the pain. She found Red sitting beside her on what seemed to be a bed. A thin woman with glasses and a heavy, dramatic hairstyle was standing near the doorway, watching her. She must have been the voice she had heard.

"Well, I suppose I'll leave you both to it," the woman said awkwardly, clearing her throat. "Good luck."

Liz felt her forehead crumple as the woman retreated out of the room, closing the door shut behind her. Then Liz thought she heard a lock click into place. As her eyes surveyed the room again, panic and fear licked through her.

She wasn't in her apartment. She was in a room with minimal furniture, aside from the bed she was on and an old antique armchair across the room. The only source of light in the room was from an old styled lamp on a dresser near her.

Her arms felt stiff, heavy. When she tried to move, to touch her face, it occurred to her belatedly that she couldn't.

As she lifted her head again from the pillow beneath her, trying to peer behind her, she caught sight of the ropes. A grunt of fear escaped the base of her throat when she saw that her wrists and arms were bound to the headboard. When she glanced down at her legs, even her ankles were tied to the bedposts.

She was being restrained and as she found Red's face with wide, alarmed eyes, pain exploded behind her eyes. She let her head fall back onto the pillow, closing her eyes tight, groaning hoarsely. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks and as she reopened her eyes, focusing on Red again through her blurred vision, she saw that he was leaning down near her this time, his faces inches from hers.

"What's happening?" she asked. It came out more like a 'wasappening', as if she couldn't pronounce words properly, as if her tongue wasn't working right. She swallowed, flinching at the pain. "What's happening to me? Why am I hurting so much?"

"Sssh." She tried to jerk her head away when Red lifted a hand, touching his hand flat against her forehead, as if he was testing her temperature. Then he moved his hand, brushing her hair back from her forehead tenderly with his warm, dry fingers. Strands of her hair seemed to want to stick to her forehead like glue unpleasantly. "Calm down, Lizzie. You are going to be just fine."

She could tell with the way his voice went, so measured and gentle, that it was his attempt at soothing her. It only seemed to have the opposite effect.

"What have you done to me?" she spat out, her voice garbled and high-pitched in horror. She sounded like a screeching crow. "Why am I tied to the bed like this? What are you doing?"

Red seemed to ignore her question, glancing over at something next to her across from the bed. He squinted at it, his head tilted, "It shouldn't be long now."

"What's happening to me?" she tried again, hardly caring if he couldn't seem to understand what she was saying. "What have you done to me?"

Liz felt the throbbing in her wrist again, in her bite. She tilted her chin upwards, angling her head at an unnatural angle, wanting to check on it. Tied and restrained the way she was, it was next to impossible.

"Hospital," she croaked out desperately. "I... I need to get to a hospital. I think you were right. I _am_ infected."

The sound of his laughter seemed to ring around the room disturbingly, and she shut her eyes tightly as it echoed around her, surrounding her. "Despite what you think, a hospital isn't truly what you need, Lizzie. Without hospital care, I can assure you that you will be quite fine in my company." He went to touch her cheek with the back of his fingers, "It's always easier with a like-minded individual there to guide you."

Growing tired of him then, Liz kicked and jerked, flailing with her body side to side violently, hoping to break free from the ropes. It was futile. She felt Red's hands close over each shoulder, pinning her down to the mattress as he drew his knees up onto the bed between her legs, and she screamed; the first time that she had been able to manage one.

"I know this may be hard on you, Lizzie, but screaming does nothing." Red's voice was strained and an octave deeper. She could hear him panting, almost like an overexcited dog.

"I don't care," she screamed, moving again in an attempt to unseat him, ignoring the searing pain raking down her throat. "Get off me! I need a hospital! What's happening?"

"What's happening is that you're changing, Lizzie. And I apologize for having to say this, but... you are powerless to stop it. While I undoubtedly sympathize with what you are going through, you'll merely have to ride it out until the transition is complete."

"No!" She used her knees, kicking, striking only his stomach. "You're crazy! I'm not changing into anything! Get off me!"

"Elizabeth, look at me," he ordered, his voice so deadly and stern that Liz had no choice but to comply. Fear laced through her as her eyes popped open to meet his, her body stilling. "If you don't believe it, then _watch_. Watch and learn."

Stubbornly, she shoved her head sideways, so she wasn't looking up at him. The only thing she could see currently in her peripheral, was his left hand that was clenched around her shoulder, holding her down. His forearm seemed to shrink, as well as his fingers, right before her very own eyes in length and width.

Then his arm was convulsing, so quickly, it was nothing more than a blur to her. Liz wanted to close her eyes, to look away so that she could feel anything but confused, only she found she couldn't. She became transfixed when hair started sprouting from his forearm, out of his knuckles, a grayish white.

She managed to close her eyes for one second in revulsion, then she became aware that the heaviness of his body, of his hands holding her, had become severely reduced. She forced her eyes open, peering at his hand again, at his forearm. It wasn't there. Instead of his hand, resting on top of her shoulder, was a white paw.

The breath leaving her lungs, she whipped her head forward, glancing up. Red was no longer there, pinning her down.

 _Raymond the dog_ was on her on the bed.

 **Hope you enjoyed this one? Its probably crazy and freaky how Liz woke up tied to a bed with Red and Mr Kaplan there, practically strangers, but I do hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. :) I'd love to know your thoughts!**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

When Liz woke up some time hours later, her body immediately let her know she had been through hell last night.

Her eyes felt gritty and heavy as she opened them reluctantly, a room with minimal furniture coming into view. The curtains were halfway open, a harsh bright light spilling through that made her wince and have to shield her eyes away hastily with her arms before she recovered and her vision adjusted. She was aching everywhere; Every muscle, every tendon in her body, was aching dully. She couldn't remember feeling so bad before.

Maybe there had been a few reckless times where she'd gotten so drunk the night before that the hang-over in the morning had been horrendous. But those hang-overs were nothing compared to how she felt now, lying in an unknown bed, in some strange, near empty room.

Her throat felt sore, her eyes heavy, eyelids hot and watery. Her nose even felt achy and blocked, as if she was suffering from sudden sinus issues that she hadn't usually experienced or ever had a problem with before.

Hell, even her teeth, jaw and gums ached. _Why did she feel so terrible?_

She wasn't sure she could even sit upright in the strange bed without it being a major effort, but she made the attempt. Bracing herself with her palms on both sides of her body, she lifted up slowly on the mattress, grimacing at the new fresh bout of exhaustion it brought onto her. The _pain_ , the _feeling_... it was indescribable. She found herself panting heavily simply by managing to slump herself upright against the bedpost behind her. Everything felt... stretched.

As if her insides and her bones had been mangled then put forcefully back together the night before. It was _excruciating_ , something she imagined going through labor and giving birth to a child would be like, but without the pain killers to dull the agony.

Trying to distract herself from the pain she felt, she surveyed the room around her nervously. All there simply was, was the bed she was lying on and some old antique armchair in the corner of the room. It took her moment to realize that the room itself looked as though it had gone through hell. It was as if the room had been torn apart, as if it had been hit by a bomb itself. She realized the white sheets that had been covering her body were strewn apart, with large holes and tears, as if someone had claw apart the sheets into shreds. When she glanced at the old armchair again by the corner of the room, she realized even that hadn't survived whatever the hell had happened last night.

The old fabric had tears in it, like claw or teeth marks. Small holes had white stuffing flung out of it. Some of the fabric even had a slight red tinge to it, which... Swallowing and wincing at a sharp sting to the back of her throat, her eyes flew down to the mangled bed sheets again. They had little red dots on them, like splashes of paint or... _blood_?

 _Blood_? Had she gotten hurt last night? Had someone gotten injured last night in the room? Was _that_ the cause of all the blood?

Everything was so confusing. It made her head pound brutally just thinking of it all. Just trying to piece all the puzzle pieces together...

Something was near her leg beneath the shredded sheets. She squirmed, kicking her bare foot nervously, hooking it between her ankle to try to make out what the thing was. That was when she realized it was a piece of rope. A piece of rope that also had been ripped apart, frayed and yanked apart at the threads. Rope.

 _Rope._ At the sight of it, a memory of last night hit her brutally. Rope. Being tied up to the bed posts by the wrists.

Red. No, not Red. Her brows creased and knotted together as she felt her heart race. Raymond? Raymond was... _Red_?

 _"What have you done to me?!"_ Fractured moments of last night began to explode inside her head, making her heart beat even faster in panic as she breathed unsteadily. Red watching her struggle on the bed. _"Why am I tied to the bed like this? What are you doing?"_

Her begging him to take her to the hospital desperately, only he had laughed her suggestion off.

 _"Despite what you think, a hospital isn't truly what you need, Lizzie."_ His voice. The memory of it, how careless he sounded, how calm, it made white hot anger flare up inside of her all over again. _"Without hospital care, I can assure you that you will be quite fine in my company."_ Touching her with the back of his dry fingers, taking her temperature or doing... God knows what? _Caressing_ her while she was helpless? _"It's always easier with a like-minded individual there to guide you."_

She slid her tongue to the corner of her lip as she shook. Her lips felt dry and cracked, a sting as her tongue flicked over the corner of it making her wince.

 _"I know this may be hard on you, Lizzie, but screaming does nothing..."_

 _"I don't care! Get off me!"_ She felt that desperation all over again, that heart-racing fear. _"I need a hospital! What's happening?"_

 _"What's happening is that you're changing, Lizzie. And I apologize for having to say this, but... you are powerless to stop it."_

Then the worst flashed before her eyes, yet again. The worst. The scariest part of the whole entire night.

 _"Elizabeth, look at me!"_ His voice had been so deadly serious, so firm and commanding that she had no choice but to listen and to obey. _"If you don't believe it, then watch. Watch and learn."_

Watch and learn. Oh, God. She _truly had_ watched and learned, hadn't she?

Gritting her teeth, she slammed her eyes shut and leaned back against the headboard, trying to calm herself down. She tried to clear her mind, focus merely on the tempo of her breathing. She felt too hot, too... flushed. As if she was any second away from passing out.

Red had turned into Raymond right before her very own eyes. _Turned?_ No, _shifted_?

She'd had her suspicions of course. She had noticed how Red the man seemed so strangely like Raymond, the dog. The eyes, the tilted head. But she hadn't actually assumed it was possible, she just thought she was being silly indulging in the thought. Oh, god. It was real. He was Raymond the dog, such a thing... it truly existed? A man could turn into a dog?

She couldn't remember what had happened after that. She remembered Red holding her down on the bed, then... all that other weirdness. The loosening pressure of his body, his hand and knees on her, holding her down to the mattress. The way his knuckles and fingers went blurry... shrinking fingers... hair growing on his knuckles. Then the paw was there, on her shoulder. Then, as she had looked up, _oh god_.

Raymond panting down at her, mouth halfway open, pink tongue hanging between his sharp teeth as he tilted his head down at her. The little huffs, the little sad whining noises he was making down at her, as if pleading for her to understand, to not react badly or do... something.

After that, the rest of the night was a little fuzzy. And her body felt like it had gone through hell. Why couldn't she remember? What on earth had happened between the time Red became Raymond, and then... what? What happened after that? Why the mess in the room and the light splotches everywhere of what presumably is.. _. blood_?

And _where was he now_ , even?

Eyes snapping open, Liz sat up carefully, bringing her eyes around the room again. Where was Red? Or... Raymond? She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Was it a dog she expected to see, that Siberian husky? Or was it the man?

To her relief, he was nowhere in the room to be seen. But as she had taken more notice of her surroundings while searching for him, she realized she had misjudged how bad the room had looked. Now that she had glimpsed down at the floor, she noticed the old lamp laying on its side, glass from the globe smashed everywhere. The sturdy looking beside dresser that it had been on was smashed in with scrape marks down the wood with the one drawer attached to it torn off its hinges.

What the hell had happened? _Why_ all the damage to the room?

Apparently she had spent too long lounging around, thinking about everything. A short, brisk knock coming from the door into the room startled her away from her thoughts.

Liz felt her pulse increase frantically as her eyes darted towards the door. Now was this the moment he came back? Was this the moment he returned, whatever he was?

She flinched when the door knob rattled, then slowly came open. To her surprise, who she expected to see wasn't there. It wasn't Raymond the dog returning to her or... or this strange Red man. No, instead it was a woman. A woman with a heavy-rimmed pair of glasses on, rather stern looking. Her dark hair was cut dramatically below the chin, the lines on her face giving her an austere look. The woman frowned as she blinked back at Liz, something causing her face to soften sympathetically at the sight of her in the bed.

As if realizing it wasn't helping Liz's situation in staring at her pitifully, the woman cleared her throat and pushed her way inside the room slowly.

"Hello, Dearie. Don't mind me, I'm just here to clean up all the mess."

Her eyes fell down meaningfully to what she was holding and Liz followed her gaze. She noticed the woman wore latex gloves on both hands while she held a bucket and sponge mop. Liz thought she could smell the bleach and cleaning products all the way from where she was, hiding away in the bed.

"Dear Lord," the woman muttered with disappointment beneath her breath, an impressed-sounding whistle escaping between her lips. "Oh, well," she continued, stepping further into the room, glass crackling beneath her shoes as she looked around. "It could have been worse."

Liz wasn't sure why she felt ashamed when the woman's eyes took in the blood stains on the floor and on the furniture, all the shredded sheets and fluff around the room. Wile she could remember little of what happened during the time after Red had shown himself transforming into a dog, Liz had a weird guilty feeling in her chest that she were somehow responsible for the room being in the state it was now.

"Where is _he_?" Liz demanded, unsettled by the sound of her voice. She sounded so weak, so frail. As exhausted in tone as how she felt on the inside. She cleared her throat hoarsely. "The man that did this to me? _Where_ is he?"

As the woman bent down near the armchair, outstretching her hand to fiddle with a piece of stuffing with her glove-clad fingers, seemingly ignoring Liz, Liz felt herself snap.

"Where am I?" She demanded, pleased her voice sounded stronger and less weak. "What is this place? H-how did I even get here?"

The woman merely shot her a look behind her shoulder before she went about inspecting the room again. "He brought you here."

" _He_? As in _the man_ that did this to me?" Liz knew she wasn't sounding very polite right now, but she couldn't care less. She wanted answers, damn it. She needed them. Politeness be damned. " _Where_ am I? Why did _he_ bring me here? Where's _here_?"

"Safety." If the woman was startled by Liz's rude tone, she didn't show it. She simply began wetting the sponge and scrubbing briskly at a dark splotch of red blood. "He brought you hear to safety. Here is where it's safe."

Safe? It felt anything but safe to Liz. She almost scoffed out loud.

"Do you know what he is?" she asked, changing tactic. "Do you know what he... does? What he... is?"

"Yeah. He changes form."

"Changes form?" Liz repeated, astonished by how blase the woman sounded about it all. As if it happened every damn day.

"Yeah." The woman turned back around to look at Liz, the discs of her glasses shining back at her. "And so do _you_."

And so do you. Four simple words, four simple words that held such power.

The blood drained from Liz's face as she held the woman's gaze. All of a sudden she felt the struggle again to breathe. And so did she? Did she really? Was that why she could not remember or comprehend anymore of what had happened last night?

"Where?" she croaked out, finding it easier to ignore the woman's words, to fail to register them. "Where is he? The... the man that did this to me? The man that brought me here?"

"Raymond?"

"Yes, _Raymond_ ," she confirmed, squeezing the name out through clenched teeth. " _Where_ is he? He was _in here_ last night?"

She heard the woman inhale heavily as she dropped her chin, her gaze falling to something on the floor. "I don't think you'll want to see him right now, Dearie." _Dearie? Dearie?_ The term of endearment that rolled off the woman's tongue made Liz almost want to flip out and scream. While she knew the woman wasn't calling her that to be deliberately patronizing, it was simply irritating, how rational and calm the woman sounded given the situation.

"Well, you are wrong," Liz stated. "I _do_ want to see him. _Right_ now."

Liz tried to hold her gaze as the woman inhaled again deeply. The woman grabbed each glove with her fingers, peeling them off her hands. Then she approached to where Elizabeth was still lying in the bed, and panic laced through Liz's body for some reason. The woman didn't seem all that dangerous but she didn't know who she was either. She wasn't just going to trust any stranger right now.

"Okay, then, Dearie," the woman said in a much softer, gentler tone, extending her arm. "I'll take you to him. He's just out in the other room."

"If he's in the other room, then why can't you bring him to me?"

"Because he's being taken care of," the woman simply said cryptically, her tone giving nothing away.

He's being taken care of? What did that even mean?

Liz hesitated before taking the arm offered, scooting her legs out of the bed. She wasn't wearing any shoes, she realized. Her feet were bare, no socks. She couldn't remember removing either her shoes or socks, but she still had some clothes on, at least. She wasn't naked.

"Just mind the glass," the woman muttered, as if able to read Liz's thoughts the instance her toes hit a square patch of unmarked carpet. Closing her eyes for a second and tightening her fingers grip on the woman's forearm, she forced herself to stand, readying herself for the pain to come.

Strangely enough, no pain did. As the muscles in her legs contracted and stretched with her standing motion, Liz felt the oddest burst of adrenaline, of relief. As if her muscles had only simply been aching because she had been bed bound, as if they had missed any slight activity to exercise them.

"It's okay, Dearie," the woman soothed as they began moving, Liz keeping her eyes downwards to the floor. She feared treading on any piece of broken furniture or glass. "I've got you, it's just in the other room."

The stench of the strong cleaning product in the bucket grew even more stronger the closer Liz and the woman edged towards it. She inhaled, her nostrils stinging at the potent fumes. She curled her lips and twisted her nose in disgust as the woman steered her past the bucket, towards the open doorway.

"Be warned, I told you that you wouldn't want to see him right now," the woman said beneath her breath as they entered into another room.

Liz's eyes inspected her surroundings cautiously. Everything about the place was rather boxed in and crowded compared to the bedroom. There was only one window with heavy curtains that were still drawn, holding the light of the early morning out. A large bookshelf scattered with thousands of books messily. The stench of stillness and dust, mustiness of old unturned pages. A fireplace, still lit and crackling, plunging the room into a hotter, muggier temperature the further the woman guided her towards it.

And then... him. Liz stopped dead still at who she saw standing around near an old, ratty couch. _Dembe?_

Dembe, the man who she had presumed was Raymond the dog's owner was standing above the couch, both hands gloved, holding something small that resembled a needle.

He was the very last person she had been expecting to see for some reason. She had expected to see the other man, yes. But not... _him_. For some reason, her mind hadn't correlated the fact that Dembe must have known all along that Raymond the dog was _actually a_ lso Red the man.

"I told you that was not a very smart idea, Raymond," she could hear the dark-skinned man mutter as he bent over the couch, doing something with the needle that Liz could not see as his large, imposing body obstructed it.

He sounded disapproving, truly like an owner scolding their pet for their behavior. _Which was ironic considering..._

"I understand that you wanted to be in the room with her but it was not smart. You are lucky she did not go for your carotid. A few centimeters closer and you would be dead."

A loud, pained hiss made Liz realize just who was seated on the couch below the man. "Yeah, well," the man that had had her confined, bound and restrained to the bed last night said, his baritone voice laced with anguish, "Every dog has it's day."

Something else filled her nostrils the closer the woman led her towards the couch. Something unsettling, something weirdly sweet and metallic. Liz realized what it was a second later when she saw, as Dembe pulled his arm back, a wet coating of blood on his gloved fingers. Bleeding. He was bleeding and he was wounded.

Releasing the woman's arm, Liz decided she could manage to walk completely unassisted on her own now. Something bitter and sour formed in her mouth, a strange taste, as she strode forward around the couch faster. She felt the malicious urge to scream, to shout, to unleash her fury over what the man had done to her last night, not that she could remember really. Her teeth gritted together as a hot throb burst in the center of her forehead as she rounded around the couch to see the two men better.

She felt a frightening sudden odd urge to snarl, to growl through her teeth. Where such an animalistic urge came from, she wasn't sure. But it had been the same way with Tom after their argument that afternoon, when she had bit him uncontrollably.

Only the instance she properly rounded around the couch, facing the man, she stopped dead in her tracks, her hands loosening from their curled, bunched up fists at the sight of him. A puff of air escaped from her clenched teeth and her stomach felt as though it had dropped. She had been right and it must have been the cause of all the bits of blood in the other room.

It was _his_ blood. His blood and _he_ was injured. _Red. Raymond._

His eyes found hers at once, and they stared at each other.

Though his face was rather bravely expressionless and stoic considering how much pain he must have been in, Liz thought she saw the fleeting discomfit that passed through his eyes as he held her gaze while Dembe pierced the needle through the skin on the side of his neck, sowing it back together. The blood... it was everywhere.

She didn't even think anything about the fact that the middle-aged man was shirtless, his chest bared to her while he sat slumped on the couch, his legs crossed at the ankles.

All she could see was the rather large gash, the blood- some probably dry- that was staining and trickling down his neck.

She had demanded the woman show her to where he was because she wanted to yell at him, she wanted to let him know how violated she had felt at the fact that he had bound her last night with rope to the bedpost, that he had even... what? Turned into Raymond the Siberian husky right before her very own eyes last night?

And all those times she had told him to stay away from her at the park, all his seemingly crazy theories about her being infected by the dog that had saved her in the fire that night... She had been so hell-bent on believing him to be crazy, in being some weird guy that was harassing her. Did she believe that now? Could she believe that now, after all that she had witnessed last night?

And if he were capable of somehow shifting into a dog then... where did that leave her?

After all, _he_ was the _only one_ in the room with her last night. She couldn't recall anything of what had happened after the moment he demanded she 'watch and learn', showing himself to be Raymond the dog. He was the _only one who knew_ what happened last night in that room obviously, whereas her mind was blank of what came afterwards. Only _he_ had the answers and the knowledge of what had happened afterwards. Would he be able to tell her what happened afterwards? Would he be able to tell her why she couldn't remember it too?

There were so many questions she felt bombarded with to ask him, all at once. _Like how was it possible for him to shift into a dog at will? What was he? What happened last night after he showed her himself to be Raymond the dog as well? Why couldn't she remember anything more of what happened last night? Why was he bleeding with a bloody torn apart gash in his neck right now? And, most importantly, what did this mean for her?_

As she stared back into his eyes, the only question she could seem to blurt out, the only coherent one enough was, "Your Raymond?"

"Yes," he muttered without hesitation, his voice a low, whispery croak.

"You were the dog as well this whole entire time?" She knew it was pointless to ask the questions seeing as she already knew the answer to them, but an actual confirmation from the man itself helped. "E-every time he was waiting for me at the park, when I allowed him to sleep over for the night while T-Tom was away... when he guzzled wine out of my glass, when he ate takeout..." Her voice was growing increasingly louder and more stressed by the second, though it wasn't intentional. The sudden realization, it was stressing her. "It was _actually_ you?"

His lips pressed into a thin line as the muscle beneath his eyelid twitched. "Yes." At least he was being honest.

Liz wasn't sure whether to be angry at that. She had unknowingly allowed the man- a stranger- into her home that she shared with Tom. Hell, she had _even allowed_ him to sleep in her bed with her.

She barely remembered Dembe being present in the room, until she heard him speak. "All done now," he said quietly, interrupting them. "All stitched up now, Raymond. Try to limit your head movements for now."

"What happened to you?" she asked as she watched Dembe slowly remove the latex gloves he was wearing. She looked down into Red's eyes again as he reached blindly for the dress shirt that was strewn across the couch. "What happened last night? W-Why are you bleeding and hurt?"

It took him a moment to answer but she waited. She watched as he gingerly redressed into his shirt, moving each arm into the sleeve carefully. Whatever had happened last night, it was evident he was in a lot of pain from the neck wound. She heard him hiss again as he clenched his teeth tight, his teeth seemingly biting the inside of his check. It was only when he took his time in buttoning up each button on his dress shirt to cover himself up that he finally answered her.

"As it turns out, you _are_ quite like me, Lizzie. And as for your bark, well..." He paused as he gently rolled his head side to side, stretching out his neck, "Your bark is every bit as bad as your bite."


End file.
